


Picking Through the Lead

by Sam_3024



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, F/M, Grand Theft Auto V - Freeform, gta v - Freeform, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:38:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 100
Words: 165,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9496067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_3024/pseuds/Sam_3024
Summary: You've been with Trevor through thick and thin: through his Air Force deployment, meeting Michael and Brad, the heist gone wrong, and through the aftermath of it all. After taking years to get over losing his best friend, what happens when the past resurfaces for you and Trevor?





	1. Chapter 1

"Trevor?" You sleepily whispered as you noticed the empty spot next to you in bed.

"What the FUCK?!" You heard from the living room. Next, you heard glass shattering.

You quickly got up and opened the bedroom door. A drinking glass had broken all over the floor. You guessed Trevor had dropped it instead of throwing it, which was also usual for him. He stood there in nothing but socks, his underwear, and a stained white t-shirt. He was fixed to the TV screen where Weazel News was covering a recent story of a heist on a jewelry store in downtown Los Santos. You had walked in on the end of it. Trevor turned and saw you, which made his expression soften. He knew you worried about his health when he got too overworked. 

"Are you ok?" You knew this was a dumb question. He obviously was upset, but you asked anyway.

"I just saw a fucking ghost."

"A what?" 

"A. Fucking. Ghost. (Your Name)."

"What do you mean, Trevor."

"Michael motherfucking Townley. That son of a bitch is alive."

"Trevor, you watched him get shot. We saw his grave!" You slightly chuckled at the insane statement he had just made. "There's no way."

"I just saw him on the news. Get whatever you need, we're going to Los Santos."


	2. Road Trip

You stood on the porch of the small house you shared with Trevor. You glanced down at your watch, and then at the luggage at your feet. He was twenty minutes late. He told you to be ready to leave at exactly 9:00 pm. 

"What are you doing out here, (your name)? You don't know what kind of crazies or lizard people are lurking around here," Ron walked up the porch steps.

"Hey, Ron. I'm waiting for Trevor. He said he would come get me at nine, but he still isn't here."

"It's kind of an odd time for him to be out. Where exactly are you two going?" He looked nervous.

"We're going to Los Santos. He has some unfinished business to attend to and he's dragging me along. Now that I think of it, will you stay here while we're gone and watch the house?"

"Of course. Does it have to do with Brad?"

"Honestly, I don't know what he's expecting out of this. I'll keep you up updated on everything while we're gone though. Don't worry." Just then, Trevor speeds up the dirt driveway in his red truck.

He looks incredibly frustrated, but still kisses you on the cheek. He grabs your luggage and throws it in the back. "You ready to go, sweet cheeks?"

"As ready as I'll ever be. Trevor, why do you smell like gasoline?" You scrunch your nose at the harsh smell.

"I took care of the O'Neil's," he grunted. You rolled your eyes and said goodbye to Ron. Walking up to the truck, you noticed Wade in the bed of the truck.

"Hey, (your name)!" Wade seemed excited to see you.

"Hi, Wade. Are you going to Los Santos with us?" 

"Yeah, my cousin, Floyd, lives there. I thought it'd be good to visit him and he'll probably let us stay at his apartment," he said.

"Well, that nice. I can't wait to meet him," you tried to make conversation, but you were incredibly nervous about what was to come next.

"So am I," Trevor piped up, "It should be a real treat to meet anyone in Wade's family." He added sarcastically.

 

You were so anxious that you really didn't bother to talk anymore. You sat silently beside Trevor in the passenger seat trying to prepare yourself. Wade and Trevor were discussing something, but you tuned them out a while ago. You wondered if you should have stayed in Sandy Shores and just let Trevor run off to pursue Michael or whatever it was by himself. You knew that Trevor would never leave you behind, but you thought maybe you could have convinced him to. Then, you thought about if Trevor was right. What if Michael is alive? What would that mean? How would Trevor react if he were to find him? You shivered and you weren't quite sure if it was because of the cold air whipping against your face as Trevor sped on the highway or at all the "what if's"?


	3. Debrah's Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, Trevor, and Wade arrive in Los Santos.

Trevor kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other one on your thigh. He was being abnormally quiet, which didn't help your anxiety. Wade hummed some song that you recognized by Fatal Incursion, his favorite band. At least there wasn't total silence. 

"Trevor?" You said

"Yes, my darling?" 

"If Michael is alive, what are you going to do?" 

"I'm not going to kill him. I want answers. That motherfucker owes me!"

"Trevor, he owes you absolutely nothing." You sigh. "You know you're being irrational right now. You're upset and you're not thinking clearly."

"Oh, I'm thinking crystal clear! I want to know why he never bothered to tell me he was alive during the nine years I thought he was dead! He lied to you too, (your name). I don't know why you're defending him."

"I'm not defending him, Trevor. I'm just saying that he had a family to protect after everything went to shit. He shouldn't have taken any chances. Maybe cutting ties for a bit was a good decision."

"I HAD YOU TO PROTECT! I kept you safe for nine years without faking my death, didn't I?! He has no fucking excuse!" Trevor erupted with anger.

"Watch your blood pressure, Trevor, or else you won't have to fake your death." You retorted.

"Uhh, sorry to interrupt, guys. Floyd and Debrah's apartment is up here to the left," Wade interjected.

"It's ok, Wade. Trevor needs to take a chill pill anyway." 

Trevor pulled into an alley and parked the truck under a cement overhanging that the apartment upstairs created. Wade hopped out of the bed and ran up the stairs. You went to get out of the truck, but Trevor lightly touched your arm. You looked back at him.

"Look, I'm sorry, (your name). I just want to find him." Trevor said.

"I know and I don't have any doubts that you will find him. Just promise me one thing, please?" You replied sweetly.

"What's that?" He looked amused.

"When you do track him down, promise me you'll take me with you when you go to meet him?"

"Of course, crazy cakes!" He gave you a wild smile. "Now lets go upstairs." 

Trevor got out of the truck and came around to your side. He held the door and helped you out. As you two walked up to Floyd and Deborah's apartment, Trevor kept his arm around you. Wade was outside the door and waited for the two of you. He turned and knocked on the door.

From inside a man asked, "Who is it?"

"It's Wade!" He answered.

Again, the man asked, "Who?!"

"Wade! Your cousin!"

Trevor pushed Wade aside and kicked the door open. "Your cousin!" Trevor spat. "He's come to visit you, you rude fuck!" Trevor had knocked Floyd to the ground when he kicked the door open. "Get off the floor and fix me a fucking drink!" 

Floyd did look a lot like Wade, but maybe if Wade had aged ten years and was more conservative. You reached out a hand and helped Floyd up. "Sorry about that. He's really a nice guy once you get through that rough exterior," you whispered to him and followed Trevor into the living room. Wade and Floyd followed after you two. 

"Where's my fucking drink?!" Trevor yelled. 

"It's been a while," Wade innocently said you Floyd.

"Yeah, I heard you were smoking meth somewhere."

"No, he's gonna smoke meth here! And where's my goddamn drink?! I'm not going to ask you again, Floyd!" 

"You can't smoke here! You three can't stay here either! Debrah would kill me!" Floyd says nervously.

"Well, we're not going anywhere, cowboy! Now go get me something to fucking drink!" Trevor pushes Floyd towards the door. "You go too!" He shoves Wade towards the door too. 

"Me and the future Misses, here, are going to christen the apartment," Trevor looks at you deviously. 

"Oh, Trevor, stop," You couldn't help but blush. 

Floyd and Wade left the apartment looking more than slightly uncomfortable. Trevor slowly approached you and put his hands on your hips. He made a quiet, low grunt sound. "All alone. What should we do?" He teased. You put your arms around his neck.

"I don't know, Mr.Philips. What do you suggest?" You smiled and kissed him on the cheek. 

"Desecrate the bedroom?" He smiled and kissed you. You smiled and he picked you up and carried you to Deborah's bedroom. 

Trevor put you down and you both looked surprised. "Holy fuck she has a lot of dildos!" You exclaimed.


	4. Back to the Old Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor is already digging up the past.

The sound of breaking glass wakes you up. This is a common occurrence that comes with being with Trevor. You slowly got up and rubbed your eyes. As soon as you opened the bedroom door, you could see into the living room. The picture of Debrah that was hanging in the living room is now broken and on the floor. Wade came around and picked the picture up and set it to the side. He was saying something about how his family doesn't understand why he lets Debrah walk all over him.

"He's a nice guy, but he's terrified of angry people. My guess is that he grew up in a house where there was a lot of turmoil. His parents might have verbally abused him," You said as you joined Wade and Trevor in the living room.

"Well good morning, my little psychologist," Trevor teased.

"Good morning," you said to him as you noticed all the little red arrows drawn on the wall to pictures of different places. "Trevor, what the hell is this? We just got here last night and you're already going back to your old ways."

"It's just one step in a big plan to find Michael," he said.

"That actually does make sense, (your name). At family reunions, Floyd's parents would always tel him how he was no good, how he'd never amount to anything, and how he screwed everything up. They yelled a lot," Wade pondered.

You and Trevor ignored Wade. You couldn't not ignore Wade when you were getting upset with Trevor. "Trevor, I would just settle in for at least a few days. Wait and see if you hear anything. You found out what you already know from the news. Just check the news and get information before you plan all these heists and what not."

Trevor walked up to you and put his hands on your shoulders. "Look, I know you're nervous because I haven't pulled a heist since the Big One, but it's going to be ok. I won't let that happen again." He turned and continued to draw on the wall.

You went to walk out of the room, but you said to Wade quietly, "Please watch him and try to keep him out of trouble."


	5. Tantrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor gets very upset and lashes out.

Trevor lays beside you on bed calmly. You wanted to talk to him about something, but you were hesitant to bring it up. You were bored sitting in Debrah and Floyd's apartment all day waiting for one of the three guys to come home. You wanted back in the game. You wanted to help find Michael. "T?" You called for his attention timidly. 

"Yes, crazy cakes?" He said as he turned the tv on with the remote.

"There's a jewelry store downtown." You mentioned.

"What about it?" He was oblivious as to what you were going to suggest, which created a lump on your throat.

"I want to rob it. Just me and you," you blurted out.

He turned the tv off and looked at you, "No, no, no. You know how I feel about you pulling heists. You don't look put for yourself and you don't care if you get hurt."

"So?"

"So?! Are you kidding me?! (Your name), you're the love of my life! You're the only thing that keeps me going! Do you know how that makes me feel?!" He stands up and glares at you before storming into the living room area. You follow him.

"Trevor-" You say quietly before he cuts you off.

"Don't you say anything else! Everyone I had an ounce of feeling for abandoned me or treated me like shit!" He took a swig of the can of Pisswasser he had just opened. Just then you two noticed Floyd. He had heard what Trevor just said. Trevor stormed past him, knocking him down, and out into the streets of Vespucci Beach. Again, you followed. 

Just as you reached the bottom of the steps and rounded the corner of the apartment, you saw Trevor engaged in a fist fight with someone. The person he was fighting fell to the ground. Trevor jumped on top of him and punched him in the face over and over. "Trevor!" You called. You began running towards them to stop T. "Trevor Philips! Stop!" It was too late. Trevor had beaten the man to death. "Hey!!" You grabbed his arm and he yanked it away. He accidentally caused you to lose your balance. You fell onto the street. Bystanders watched you two. When Trevor saw you on the street, his expression immediately softened. You looked at your hands; they were now scraped and bloody from your fall along with your knees. 

Trevor dropped to his knees in front of you. You looked at him and he melted. "I'm sorry," he began to sob. He grabbed you in an embrace. You hugged him back. He whispered in your ear, "I don't know what comes over me."

"I know," you whispered, "Its ok."

*

You took a damp wash cloth and dabbed at Trevor's knuckles. He winced every time the cloth made contact. "Trevor, we might have to go to the hospital. I think I see bone."

"No. No hospitals."

"I need tweezers. There are pieces of teeth in here. I'm going to ask Floyd if there are any here." Trevor continued to watch tv. He always got slightly stoic after over expressing both rage and sorrow. You left him alone and knocked on Floyd's door.

He opened it, "Oh, (your name). I was worried it was Trevor."

"Nope, just me. I think he'll stay in bed the rest of the night. He's emotionally exhausted. I wanted to ask if you had any tweezers."

"We do. They're in the top right hand drawer in the bathroom," he told you.

"Ok, thank you, Floyd," you turned towards the bathroom.

"Hey, (your name)?" Floyd sheepishly called out to you.

"Yes?"

"Did T-Trevor really grow up like that? Like what he said earlier?"

"Don't tell him I told you, but yes. He's extremely sensitive about it and only talks about it if you win his trust. It's pretty obvious that's why he has anger issues." You admit.

"And its pretty obvious he doesn't trust easily," he pauses, "He must really love you."

You smile, "I know he does. And I really love him. Just be strong, Floyd. Be confident in yourself and stand up to people; he'll go easier on you."

"Thank you, (your name)."

"No problem," you turn and go towards the bathroom as you hear Floyd shut his door. You get the tweezers and go back into Debrah's room were you are staying with Trevor.

You sat beside him and grabbed his hand, immediately trying to get the pieces of broken teeth out. He still winced and even grunted slightly as you pulled the pieces of enamel out. "Last piece, I promise." You told him as you picked at his knuckle and put a white chunk in the cup you had gathered up all the embedded debree Trevor had in his hand. He sat up and stared at you. "What?" You asked.

He kissed you and kept his hand on the back of your neck, "We're hitting that jewelry store tomorrow."


	6. Vangelico's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor hits the jewelry store with you.

You watched Trevor jog down the steps of Floyd and Debrah's apartment in front of you. You liked the way his shoulders flexed in anticipation. His white t-shirt hugged his muscled arms and made them look even bigger. The way he cuffed his jeans over his work boots made you smile; it was his attempt at being fashionable even though his brown boots were caked with mud, and probably blood, and his t-shirt was stained. Both of you were pumped to do this. It had been a while since he last time you and Trev pulled a heist together. 

About a year ago was the last time Trevor and you pulled any kind of heist. You two had decided to pull one over on the O'Neil brothers by stealing the ingredients for cooking meth out of their barn. It was a successful run. You both took the ingredients to Chef for Trevor to use and distribute his own meth through Trevor Philips Industries. However, one of the brothers had found you and Trevor. He was too far away to stop, so he ran into the farm house and alerted his brothers. You and Trevor had to completely wipe out the O'Neils. When there was one O'Neil left, it was obvious that shooting them wouldn't do it. Trevor didn't have eyes on him at all. You could see that he was inside the house and ducking behind the dinner table. Neither one of you would be able to make the shot, so you tossed your handgun aside.

"Fuck this, I'm going in, T." You said as you pulled a deer knife out of your boot. 

"Wait, (your name). I can't cover you if you go in there. I don't have him in my sights."

"He's by the dinner table." You run towards the house and kick open the door.

With the knife in hand, you go down the hall and try to approach the kitchen from the back room. You sneaked upon the last O'Neil, caught him in a choke hold, and slit his throat. As he died, he fired off a few rounds and managed to hit you with one. Trevor had managed to watch everything through the broken front window. You had never heard him yell so loud. He rushed in and grabbed you up. 

"Where are you hit?!" He asked frantically. You didn't answer. You were too much in shock. "(Your name)! Where are you hit?!" He howled. You slowly lifted up the bottom of your shirt to reveal a bullet wound spewing blood in your navel. The last thing you remember is the look on Trevor's face. You never wanted to see that look on his face; It was the look of someone thinking they're about to lose the best thing in their life. Then, you passed out in Trevor's arms. Hours later, you woke up on a couch in the discount store that Trevor used to operate his business. Chef had some basic medical training and was able to get the bullet out and stitch you up.

*

Trevor opened the passenger door for you, waited until you were inside, and closed it after you. He hopped in the red Bodhi and drove off to downtown Los Santos. He kept his foot on the pedal the entire way there and blared Channel X. Although you could tell he was nervous, you could also tell that he was extremely excited to have you by his side again. He loved seeing you kick ass alongside him.

"Alright, we're here," he said as he pulled up to the curb. "Here's the plan: we'll ask to see some stuff. I'll distract the salesperson and you grab te ones most similar to the replacements."

"What am I supposed to replace them with?"

"There's a bag full of Debrah's shitty jewelry in the back."

You giggled, "Ok, T. Sounds good."

The two of you walk, hand-in-hand into Vangelico's. You grew nervous that maybe you and Trevor were suspicious looking. After all, he was wearing a stained t-shirt and old work boots you were pretty sure he had when he was in the Canadian air force. You weren't dressed to the nines either exactly, but you looked like you belonged there more than Trevor. He was always so confident in himself, a thing you loved about him, and went right up to the saleswoman. You dug through the bag quickly to see what Trevor had put in there. You began searching the showcases for similar pieces.

"Helloooooo," he dragged out his greeting. "I'd like to by my woman here a little anniversary present. I'll let her pick."

"Hi, welcome to Vangelico's. Sure thing. What exactly are we looking for today? Rings, necklaces, bracelets?"

"Rings mostly, but maybe a necklace," you said, "How about those three, right there?" You pointed to three rings in the case in front of you. Trevor stepped behind you to place himself perfectly in front of the security camera pointed in your direction. He moved you a little bit to hide what you were doing to the security guards, but to the saleswoman it looked like he was moving out of your way to let you choose. She pulled the three rings out for you to look at. " Maybe those too. And those necklaces," You pointed to a few more things. This was too easy. She must have been new to be pulling out everything at once.

"Oh, come on. Don't you want bigger diamonds?!" Trevor teased.

"I don't see anything bigger, sweetie."

"We might have something in the back. Would you like me to go check?" The woman smiled.

"That would be GREAT!" Trevor said.

This heist was practically gift wrapped. As soon as the door shut behind the woman, you and Trevor switched out a total of nine rings and three necklaces. Debrah's jewelry wasn't an exact match, but it'll have to do nd looked similar enough to the ones you picked. Quickly, before she came back you two walked out of the store and got into Trevor's Bodhi. 

"These must go for hundreds of thousands of dollars!" You exclaimed as Trevor sped down the road. He smiled at you. "I gotta say, it was a rush, but it wasn't as fun as planning a big heist and having a big preparation."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm lightly dissatisfied that I didn't even get to punch someone. Fuck it! It was still fun."

"Wanna celebrate and then pawn off the stuff tomorrow?" You smiled slyly. 

"You mean how we used to celebrate after a heist?" He asked. You nodded as the wind swept your hair in every direction. "FUCK YEAH!!!" He screeched.


	7. Just Like Old Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after the jewelry heist. You and Trevor have much to discuss.

Your eyes open. The first thing in your sight is your hand on Trevor's bare chest. You lift your head off him and turn to look at his face. He was still out cold. You plant a kiss on his cheek, get out of bed, and throw on some clothes. You tripped over one of Debrah's sex toys and kicked it under the bed out of annoyance. You heard talking in the living room. It had to be Wade and Floyd.

"You gotta get him outta here," you heard Floyd mutter.

"I know, cousin, I know. You keep tellin' me. I think I found the guy he's lookin' for." Wade assured his relative. You busy through th door at Wade's confession.

You looked pissed and both the men saw it. You stormed over to the couch and they both flinched, expecting Trevor to hit both of them. Floyd calmed down when he saw it was you, but Wade knew you yelled just like Trevor when you were really, really angry. 

"You found Michael and didn't tell Trevor or me, Wade?! Do you have any idea what Trevor will do to you if he knew?!" You roared. 

"I know! I'm sorry, (your name). I didn't think either one of you was up or that'd you'd hear it. There are no Michael Townley's that fit the description, but there's a Michael de Santa." Wade spilled everything he knew to avoid you becoming more angry, or worse, telling Trevor.

"Michael de Santa? Does he have a wife?" You grew increasingly confused. 

"Yes. Amanda de Santa," Wade said.

"Amanda! This is great, Wade! Good job!" You leaped over and hugged him. Floyd watched you two nervously. You ran back into Debrah's room and jumped on the bed. Trev had always been a heavy sleeper. 

"T!" You called as you put a hand on his cheek. "T, sweetie, get up!"

He began to come to. "What? What is it? Are you ok, crazy cakes?" He said in a groggy voice and looked around the room.

"I'm just perfect, Trevor," you grabbed his face and kissed him.

"Careful with that kind of wake up or we'll have to repeat last night," he smirked. 

"Trev, Wade found Michael. We have to go. Now!"

Trevor's eyes grew wide and jumped up. He walked out of the bedroom in his underwear. "WADE?! FLOYD?!" He called. "We're on a mission, cowboys!" You followed him into the living room and Floyd looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown. "Ok, Floyd, you're-"  
Trevor was interrupted by the front door unlocking and a woman with short, black hair came in. It was the woman from the picture in the living room. She walked in and glanced at you, Trevor, and Wade, and lastly to Floyd.

"Floyd? Who are all these people in my apartment?" She asked condescendingly.

"Um, excuse me, cupcake," Trevor said gently, "I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING BRIEFING!" 

"Floyd?!" Debrah hollered. "I want all of you gone! You too, Floyd!"

"What?! But, my sweet-" Floyd started.

"No, I'm sick of this! I gave you warning after warning! Bob knew I was going to come home to another stunt you've pulled!"

"Fuck Bob!" Floyd stormed out of the apartment.

"Wait, who's Bob?" Trevor asked.

"Listen here, Deb," you began. "I don't know what the fuck just happened, but don't worry. We're leaving. All of us. You and Floyd are the only ones here who know who Bob is, but you can go back to him now. You won't have to fuck behind Floyd's back. And just to clear the air, you'll never find someone as loyal as Floyd that will put up with a bitch like you." Her and Trevor's jaws dropped. She let out a defeated "Humph" and stormed into her bedroom, slamming the door. "Let's go, guys," you said to Trevor and Wade. 

The went first out the door. As you passed Floyd's bedroom, about to leave the apartment for the last time, you saw Floy'd bear, Mr.Raspberry Jam sitting on his dresser. You grabbed and and stepped outside the apartment and descended the steps outside. The three men were waiting.

"I can't tell you how turned on I am after that," Trevor smiled at you as he leaned against his Bodhi. Floyd was sitting against a wall, crying and Wade was trying to comfort him. You ignored Trev's advances and kneeled beside Wade and Floyd. 

You handed him Mr.Raspberry Jam. "Thank you," he sobbed as he took the bear.

"Listen, Floyd, I hate to say this to you but it's for the best. She didn't treat you well and she didn't see how kind you were to her. I'm assuming you don't have anywhere to go, so please come with us. We would love if you did."

"You ain't gotta lie, (your name)." He wiped a tear from his face.

"I'm not. We really want you to come with us. Come on," you reached out a hand. He took it and you pulled him up. Trevor started up the truck. Wade and his cousin got in the bed of the truck, and you joined T as you sat in the passenger seat.

"Alright, now, we gotta make a stop first." Trevor announced. 

"Where?" You asked.

"You'll see. I've had the idea since we've been here in Los Santos," Trevor had a wild smile on his face.

*

Trevor pulled into what seemed more like an alley than a parking lot. You read the sign above the red building: The Vanilla Unicorn. You felt a knot in your stomach. 

"Trevor Philips!" You yelled.

"Yes, my darling?" He answered.

"What the hell are we doing here?!"

"You're looking at the new owner," he said as he hopped out of his car.

"You two stay here," you said to Floyd and Wade. "Trevor, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" You followed after him.

He didn't answer, but just walked briskly into the strip club. You tried keeping up with him, but he had longer legs and a wider gait than you. A bouncer tried to keep him from entering backstage. Trevor punched him and you still followed him. He kicked in the owner/manager's door. You stepped inside the room just as Trevor jumped on top of him and began strangling the owner. "Jesus, Trevor!" You closed the door so no one would see. Trevor reached for the letter opener that had been on the desk and he stabbed the owner over and over and over. 

He stood and gave you a pleased look. "We're the owners now." He slithered over and gave you a hard kiss, leaving streaks of blood on you. You followed him back outside and to the car. Wade looked confused and Floyd looked scared, as always. He clutched Mr.Raspberry Jam.

"Why are both of you all red? Is that syrup?" Wade asked innocently.

You ignored this. "Ok, Floyd, Wade, this is where you two will be staying for the time being." You told them both. They hopped out of the truck and reluctantly went inside. "We'll be here later." You got back in the car with Trevor.

"Time to go find Mikey," Trevor said through gritted teeth.


	8. The De Santas

"Ok, it should be a straight shot down this road according to the directions Wade printed out," you said as Trevor laid his foot harder on the accelerator, "Should be on this block."

"No fucking way," Trev mumbled through gritted teeth. "That, unghh, ASSHOLE!!!" He punched the steering wheel.

"Ok," you sighed, "I'm sure there's an explanation as to why he has such a luxurious house and we still live out in the boonies. First, we have to make sure it's even him, T."

"There's no way it isn't him, (your name). This is the exactly something that fat fuck would do!"

"Not gonna argue with that one, but you have to remember who he was, Trevor. This was our best friend. He saved our asses so many times."

Trevor took in what you said, but you knew him too well. He was a good listener, but there was something inside him that constantly nagged at his brain. It tells him to never let go and to always get revenge. He's always been this way and sometimes you wondered if his family really was why he was like this. You watched as Trevor clenched his fists and walked up to the Tiffany stained glass door on the Spanish villa styled mansion. He didn't even bother knocking; he just turned the knob and it opened. You quietly followed and stood in the foyer. Trevor kept walking at a steady pace into the kitchen, where both of you could hear the familiar voices yelling to one another. When Trevor entered the kitchen, silence overtook the house. Forget about hearing a pin drop, you could practically hear the air moving around the house.

"Nice to see you again, Mikey," Trevor said in a low and quiet voice. "Looks like you've been doing well for yourself, huh?" Trevor looks around and everyone is still quiet. "Amanda, you haven't changed a bit. Plastic surgery is quite advanced these days. And look at the kids! Jimmy, Tracey, I remember the days you both were born like it was yesterday and now you're all grown up." Trevor maintains his quiet and calm voice. It unsettled you to hear him calm because it was so rare that he was so quiet.

"What are you doing here, man?" You heard Michael's voice and you could feel the last decade of hurt wash over you and then leave. Tears began to form in your eyes.

"I just wanted to have a little chat about why I thought you were dead for the last nine years, but now I want to know that and how you managed to get a house like this."

"It's a long story, Trevor. Why don't we go somewhere to talk? What do you say?" His New York accent was so nostalgic for you and you wondered if Trevor was thinking the same things you were. You slowly walked into the kitchen and stood beside Trevor. 

When the whole Townley family saw you, their faces softened from absolutely terrified to at ease, especially Michael's. "Holy shit," Michael said. I never thought I'd see you again, (your name), not to mention still with Trevor."

"I know," was all you said. You approached Michael and the two of you wrapped your arms around each other. 

"Alright, alright, why don't I get a hug?" Trevor asked.

"Because you're a violent psychopath, T." You answered him honestly. You and Michael ended the hug and you looked into his blue eyes. "You're the exact same Michael that we knew all those years ago. I can tell." You shifted your gaze to his kids. "I do have to repeat what Trevor said. I remember when you two were born and now I assume you're going into college. You two grew up relatively well for the kids of a criminal," you all laughed slightly, "I'm sorry I couldn't be there while you grew up, but I missed you both so much." This brought Tracey to tears and both her and her brother gave you a group hug.

"We missed you too, Aunt (your name)." Jimmy said.

"And Amanda, I hope we can pick up right where we left off because I miss hanging out with you. You were the most genuine friend I ever had," you both smiled at each other and hugged.

"What the hell is this, crazy cakes?! Some kind of damn family reunion?!" Trevor piped up.

"Trevor, thats exactly what this is. For all intents and purposes, they are our family. I need you to put aside your anger that you've been building for almost ten years and see the bigger picture here." You retorted.

Trevor sighed, "You're right. I suppose we can talk like adults instead of taking your wife and kids as hostages and violently torturing you until I feel better about my childhood upbringing and all the wrongs ever done to me." He smiled jokingly.

"He's kidding," you say.


	9. Double Trouble

"Alright, kids," Amanda sighs,"you have my number if you need anything. I don't know when we'll be back, but I'll text you and check on you two. Here's some money for pizza."

Trevor slides his hand down from your shoulder to the small of your back. You glanced over at him and saw the sly smirk on his face. It had been a long time since he had seen you in such a fancy, tight dress. Amanda had let you borrow it for tonight's dinner and you had no idea why you agreed. Not only do you and Trevor not know the etiquette of five star restaurants, but you've never worn a dress that was low cut in the from and back, and a slit down the leg. Michael let Trevor borrow a suit, which you absolutely loved. It was a little big on him, but everything fell where it should. "And if you do something you can't tell your parents, call me!" You added, jokingly, as you, Trevor, Michael, and Amanda were walking out the door. The four of you filed into Michael's car. The boys stayed silent.

"So (your name), you look absolutely amazing. I swear you look like you did ten years ago. Even ten years ago, you still looked like when I met you when we were in our early twenties!" Amanda said excitedly.

"Oh, thank you! Yeah, that Sandy Shores air does wonders for your skin! Not!" Both of us erupted into laughter. It felt exactly like no time had passed. We were all the same people, but also so different.

"I want you to keep that dress. I haven't worn it since Michael and my tenth wedding anniversary. You look a lot better in it than I ever did," She says as she touched up her makeup in a compact mirror. "You and I need a private girls day and the boys should go off on their own. We have so much catching up to do."

"Ugh, I'd love that!" You exclaim.

"What? You don't like hanging out with me?" Trevor interjects.

"Oh no, honey, I love hanging out with you. However, girls need girl time. Don't act like you wouldn't love boy time! I think it'd be good for you and Michael."

"I agree," Amanda adds, "Michael seems like a lump on a log right now, but he's been obsessed with the thought of seeing you again, Trevor."

"Amanda," Michael says softly.

"What?" She laughs.

"We're here," Michael gets out of the car and heads inside while everyone else got out of the car. 

You got out as quickly as you could and caught up with Michael. "Hey!" You called.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong? You seem kind of aloof," I state.

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Michael, I know this is a huge surprise and maybe you weren't quite ready for it, but I want to be friends again."

"Yeah, I know. I do too. I just don't know how to process all of this. I'm happy though, I promise," he smiles.

"Ok, but if I find out you're lying, remember that I know where you live!" You say as you walk back with Trevor and Amanda.

-

"Where do we even start, Michael?" Amanda says as she puts a forkful of lasagna into her mouth.

"Well, I was in contact with this guy, Dave Norton. He offered to put me in the Witness Protection Program and I'd have anything my family ever wanted in exchange for you and Brad," Michael looked at Trevor.

"So the first opportunity you have to get any material desire, you turn in your best friend?" One of Trevor's eyebrows raises, while the other drops.

"I couldn't keep going, Trevor. I had two young kids at the time. I didn't want to constantly worry about if my kids would have a father and if my wife would be a widow every time we did a score. I'm sorry it was at the cost of your freedom. I realize that was a fucked up thing to do."

"You didn't think about me possibly being arrested and having to bury Trevor? I get that you wanted to protect Jimmy and Tracey and I totally understand, but did you ever think about what could have happened to the rest of us?" You added.

"At the time, I was extremely selfish. I'm sorry." Michael looked down at his food. The table was silent for a moment.

"The first day we went by 'De Santa' instead of 'Townley', I told Michael that if we were in your position I would never forgive someone that was responsible for his death. I honestly have no idea why you and Trevor are being so nice to us right now." Amanda says with a saddened expression.

"You guys know I've always been the voice of reason for Trevor. Me on the other hand, I learned when I was young that anger is a masking emotion. It's sort of a front for deeper emotions, like hurt. Trevor and I are hurt, but I keep reminding him that you two were and are our family and that you deserve to be heard out."

"Well, thank you, but we really don't deserve that. We've felt guilty pretty much every day," says Michael as he wipes his mouth. Silence fell over the table again, to which both you and Amanda blamed on the boys being so awkward.

"I do have one question. Trevor and I have already guessed what the answer is, but we need to hear it. What happened to Brad?" I asked.

Michael finished chewing his chicken parmesan and then sighed, "You both know he was shot. He died in the hospital later that day."

You could see Trevor clench his teeth, so you say, "It's not his fault."


	10. Fruition

"I understand that, (your name). I'm just having trouble understanding why I received letters from him in prison," you could see Trevor's face starting to turn red as if his body was a meter showing his rage level.

"Oh no," you mumbled.

"Listen, Davey told me he was writing you letters to keep you at bay. He thought that if you knew he died then you would come after me," Michael said.

"Oh yeah?! What about the fact I came after you anyway?!" Trevor stood over the table.

You grabbed his sleeve, "Please sit down, T. Please! I want to have nice dinner."

He looked around and sat back down. "Fine, but I'm not happy!"

"Whats new?" Michael scoffed. Amanda looked around at the other people in the restaurant and apologized to them. "I don't think Davey anticipated you finding out that I was still in LS."

"You all must think I'm pretty fucking dumb. I'm surprised the idea didn't pass through your thick skull that doing a heist while in hiding isn't fucking dumb, Mikey."

"Trevor, I need you to listen to me," you turned towards him, "I know it fucking sucks what happened between all of us and you have a bug up your ass about the whole situation, and now that I'm saying this so do you Michael. I don't want this to be this way. We were all best friends a while ago. I get the frustration that both of you have, but you need to put it aside and talk this out before someone ends up dead!"

"I don't think you do get my frustration, sweet cheeks." He said in true Trevor fashion, through gritted teeth. "I don't think anyone understands why I'm so frustrated and why I'm having a hard time just letting go." Everyone at the table looked extremely confused, even you. Trevor stood, slowly this time. He tugged you up by your arm. Before you knew what was happening, Trevor grabbed the edge of your dress where it created a slit down the leg and he yanked it back, revealing a big scar on your upper thigh. "She was in the fucking crossfire, you asshole! And that's not the only one!" Trevor yells at Michael. Michael looked overwhelmed with guilt and Amanda's jaw was practically on the floor.

You push Trevor off and storm out of the restaurant, completely humiliated. Tears filled your eyes as you hailed a cab. You had no idea where you wanted to go. Before he had the opportunity, you turned your phone off to avoid any calls. The driver asked where you wanted to go, and you blurted out a place. If Trevor remembered the places the two of you hung out when you were teenagers, he would probably find you quickly. You hoped he couldn't remember Al's Diner. 

You went into the diner and slid into a booth. You had a faint memory of you and Trevor laughing and sliding into a booth at the same time, back when you had only been with him for a year or two. That was a few years before he joined the Air Force, what a strange thing to think. That was a hard time in both of your lives when he told you that he was leaving. A waitress broke you out of your thoughts as she introduced herself and asked for your order. "A strawberry milkshake, please." Just what Trevor always ordered for you. You had never had one and he nearly flew off the handle, telling you this diner made the best strawberry milkshake in LS. That day started your obsession with them, and he was right. Only Al's could make a decent strawberry milkshake.

This was the most confusing situation you've been in for a while. You loved Trevor so much and you trusted him with your life, in fact you had. Yes, he did have issues with anger but he was doing well considering how he grew up. His father used to hit him and his brother, and you used to worry that he would possibly do that to you. But he never did. You believe with everything in you that he would never. There's so much more to Trevor than meets the eye. So why did he do what he just did? He practically pulled up your dress and exposed scars that you were extremely self conscious about. 

The bell hanging over the door made your heart stop every time you heard it. You hoped it wouldn't be Trevor, but then you heard his voice. "A strawberry milkshake, please." You hear the 'I know I'm an asshole' in his voice as he ordered. Both that and the fact he ordered a strawberry milkshake made you smile even though you didn't want to. You heard his footsteps approaching and he slid into the seat opposite you. 

"Oh, you already got a milkshake. Well, here's another," he scooted the tall glass towards you. You took it and immediately started drinking it. That made him smile, but a silence fell over the table. He finally said, "I'm sorry. Once again, I've crossed the line."

"I'll agree that you did cross a line, but I think we should talk about it because it needs to come out. We need to talk about it with Amanda and Michael."

"Are you sure? I know what a sensitive subject it is and I feel really bad for just putting it out there if you're not ready," he said looking genuinely sad.

"Yeah, I think it would clear up some confusion about what it was like for us after the Big Heist while they stayed in Los Santos. It might be the final step of mental and emotion healing we need. Where are Michael and Amanda?" you suggested.

"They went on home. I caught a cab and went to the park around the corner first and then I thought 'what are some other places we used to hang out' and here we are," he said.

"Alright, well its getting late. We should go back to Michael and Amanda's. If they're still up, let's tell them our story."


	11. The Beginning of the End

Trevor turned the knob on the huge wooden and glass door. He steps back and lets you enter first, with his hand on your lower back. You take one step inside and it feels oddly quiet. Hand-in-hand with Trevor, you walk around the house to find your friends. Once you discover they're not in the kitchen, you turn to the dining room where you see both Michael and Amanda. Neither one of them talking. Michael has a glass of a amber liquid, which you guess is whiskey, that he's holding with both hands and staring at morosely. Amanda stares off into space with her chin resting on her hand with a defeated expression. Both had already changed out of their fancy dinner attire into pajamas. Their eyes lit up when they saw you, and immediately lost it again when the laid eyes on Trevor. 

"Trevor and I talked a little and decided that it wasn't fair to make you explain everything when we haven't told you what things were like on our end. I mean the last time I saw you, Michael, was the day of the Big One and it was even longer than that since I saw you, Amanda." You admit. Trevor retrieves a glass similar to Michael's and pulls out a chair for you and himself at the table. He Michael gets the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and fills Trevor's cup.

"Well, let's start from the beginning of when things went downhill that day," Michael pursed his lips.

"Oh god," you scoff, "Ludendorff; I really tried to forget about that day." Trevor scoffs too in agreement. "Let's make a deal. We both tell the true story and give every last detail of that day, right now." You say. 

Michael looks at Amanda and then back at you. "You didn't tell her anything, did you?" Trevor asks. "Typical! For fuck's sake, Michael!"

"No, I didn't tell my family much. I wanted to make as clean of a break as I could. I wanted to protect them," Michael replies.

"Ok, ok. We're all one big family here, so lets make the deal to be honest and cut all the bullshit right now." You demand.

"I think that's for the best at this point, so sure." Michael agrees.

"I'm just a listener here," Amanda pipes in. "I think you two should change first because this might be a long talk."

"You're right. Trevor and I will go change, and I'll check on the kids while we're upstairs." You get up quickly and Trevor downs the rest of his drink before he follows you up. 

You both enter the room to the left of the top of the stairs. Trevor shuts the door and then unzips the back of your dress. You fold it nicely, lay it on the dresser, and put on a t-shirt and activewear pants. Trevor puts on his classic white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. You felt the tension in the air. He wasn't talking to you. You understood though because you know what those nine years did to him. "You ready?" You ask him. He nods and follows you out of the room. You pop your head in Tracey and Jimmy's rooms. She was asleep and he was yelling at someone over a video game headset. You and Trevor head downstairs. While the two of you were gone, Michael topped his and Trevor's drink. Amanda had opened a bottle of wine for you and her. You and Trevor regain your seats at the dinner table. 

"North Yankton," you begin, "we robbed that bank in Ludendorff. That much is mutual, right?"

"Yes, everything is the same for me until we crashed the car near that farm. That's when it all fell apart." Michael said. "My first truth that I need to tell is that the whole ending to the heist was a set up."

"You wormy motherfucker!" Trevor yells. "I knew it!" He points a finger at Michael and takes a big swig of his drink.

You place your hand on Trevor's arm that holds his drink, "Please don't get upset yet. We haven't even gotten into the thick of it. Please continue, Mike."

"So, you've heard me mention Dave Norton. We had an agreement. I wanted out of the game for the sake of my family. Dave offered me immunity in exchange for Trevor, Brad, and any information I could give." Michael sighed and looked so ashamed. Trevor just poured himself another glass and chugged it.

"How could you do that to your best friend, Michael?" You ask. Amanda looks at her husband in total shock. "How could you do that to me? Trevor and I were together before he met you, so you knew how close we are."

"I know. If I could take it back, I would. I'm honestly so glad the plan went south and you guys are still here because the whole thing was fucked. I would've missed you both so much. I did miss you guys so much over the years. I felt so guilty when the kids would bring you both up." He says.

"I believe that you've lived with the guilt ever since, so I'm not going to keep pushing it. However, I'm curious as to how you and this Dave guy planned to kill Trevor and Brad." You mention.

"Dave was on top of one of the barns. He had a sniper rifle and shot Brad. He pretended to shoot me, and couldn't get a good shot on Trevor."

"Why didn't you add me to the deal?" You wondered.

"I convinced Dave that you're more use to him alive and out of prison. Yes, you ran with us, but you were the most level-headed. Whenever me, Trevor, or Brad flew off the handle you could bring us back to Earth in one sentence. You saved our asses and kept us out of prison a majority of the time."

"Smart move because if I had made it and she hadn't, you wouldn't be breathing right now," Trevor joins the conversation as he finishes another drink. Michael just gives him a look, noting the amount of pain he caused you both.

"Well, I can attest to the fact that he didn't live up to his end of the bargain," you say, clenching your fists as if trying to physically hold back mental anguish.

"What do you mean?" Michael guiltily sips his drink.

You stood up and pulled your shirt up to reveal a second scar on your abdomen, "The one in my leg wasn't the only one. He shot me twice. I almost died, Michael." 

You sat back down and looked over at Trevor. He sat with his head back, lips pursed, and trying to fight off tears. Michael and Amanda looked on the verge of tears too. "As soon as you and Brad went down, we ran as fast as we could. I ran so much that I thought I would pass out at any second until I heard another shot, and then her scream. I can't forget the way it sounded. And then as I turned to check on her, it happened again. I heard another shot and she let out this bloodcurdling scream again. He managed to shoot her in the leg to slow her down, which allowed him to take another shot at her." Trevor downed more whiskey and then started again. "I had one of those, uh, what do you call it? Ah, adrenaline rush! It was like I blinked and suddenly had covered a few yards and threw her over my shoulder with superhuman strength. I still don't know how either one of us did it."

"I don't even remember what happened next. I kept fading in and out of consciousness," you added.

"You remember how barren and unpopulated North Yankton was. I had to carry her for miles before I found a car to hijack. We were both covered in her blood. The nearest town at that point was Sandy Shores. I was so scared that it was too late. I mean, Sandy Shores was in a whole other state than Ludendorff! Even then, I didn't know what to do because the cops had seen our faces. I didn't know how to get to a hospital without also going to prison. I decided to stop at the next place I came upon. It happened to be a bar, but I had to try my luck. After all the bad things we had done and been through, I knew there was a reason we made it out because the bartender was some science-y medical school dropout or whatever. He said she never would have made it to the hospital." Trevor trailed off. He was clearly intoxicated.

"That bartender is actually a very good friend of ours now. We call him Chef," you smile for a brief second and then remember the conversation.

The four of you sat in silence for a bit. None of you quite knew how to process any of this. Amanda had no idea about any of this. Michael had single-handedly managed to backstab and betray every friend he had. Trevor never caught a break in life and he had never been able to sit down and discuss anything like this, not to mention what happened in Ludendorff. All the tension made you shift uneasily in your seat. You wanted someone to say something. It felt better to know the truth, but you wondered what to do with the information now that you knew it. It wouldn't change the past. It wouldn't fix anything. The silence grew even more uncomfortable.

"Somebody say something!" You blurt out. Everyone looks at you.  
"Not only did I not know about any of this until now, but I don't feel like I have the right to say anything." Amanda says. 

"Yeah, but you can say something if you want." You tell her.

"What is there to say?" Michael adds.

"There better be something to say. I almost died and I had to deal with post traumatic stress for years afterwards! Tell them Trevor! Wasn't it fun to be woken up by me in the middle of the night screaming and thrashing around?! Wasn't it fun when I would relive that day right in front of you and no matter how many times you told me it wasn't real and that I was ok I couldn't snap out of it?! Wasn't it fun having so much survivor's guilt because we thought Michael was dead along with Brad?!" You erupted with anger.

"I don't think it's fair of you two to be pissed at me! I didn't know the worst of it until now! You both don't know how guilty I feel!" Michael roars back.

"How guilty you feel?" Trevor squints at Michael. "Is all of this about you?"

"Don't get him started, Trevor," Amanda rolls her eyes. "His favorite pastime is throwing pity parties."

"Who's side are you on?" Michael says to his wife.

Trevor throws his glass down on the floor and mimics Michael, "Oh woe is me?! I'm Michael! I fucked over all my friends and took all the green in the process! I don't have to worry about going to prison because a corrupt mall cop that set me up in a LS mansion made an agreement with me! You have everything you wanted, you fat fuck! While me and (your name) had to hide out in the fucking desert in a FUCKING TRAILER!" Trevor tackles Michael to the ground. The two men are tangled together. Trevor thrashes relentlessly at Michael.

You look at Amanda. She shakes her head, signaling to you to just let the boys work it out. Both of them are obviously very drunk. They stop when Michael starts yelling about his back. Trevor is sitting in the middle of the floor and starts bawling. Amanda is now looking at you. You mouth "he's drunk" to her, as if she didn't know. You knocked back the glass of wine in front of you, but it wasn't strong enough. You reached for the whiskey and drank straight from the bottle what was left.

"Jesus fucking christ," you say slamming the empty bottle on the table, "we're all so pathetic. Ok, I'm going to bed while I can still make it up the stairs. Come on, Trevor." You loop your arm under his armpit and help hoist him up to his feet. You wrap one of his arms around your shoulders and help him up to bed.

You try to slowly lower Trevor into bed, but he pretty much just falls into it. His cries are muffled by the pillow his face is buried in. You rolled your eyes at him. Maybe this is what Michael meant when he said you were the level-headed one. Trevor had stopped making noise, so you flipped him over to make sure he was ok. He had already passed out and was starting to snore. You walked to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge. You had so much on your mind and the only person you felt you could talk to was drunkenly passed out beside you. Doubts swam around your mind, making you feel like maybe that conversation shouldn't have taken place. No, there was no way to avoid it without being awkward after Trev did what he did at the restaurant. You turned off the light and laid in bed all night and into the morning with anxiety-ridden thoughts plaguing you.


	12. The Morning After

As you came to, you realized faint sunlight filtered through the window and the "melody" of sound coming from the bathroom brought you wide awake. You rolled over and saw Trevor in the en suite bathroom, throwing up. Clearly, you were not going back to sleep. You glanced at the clock and saw that it was only six in the morning. You had only managed to get three hours of sleep. Trevor flushed the toilet, made a couple grunting sounds as he wiped his mouth, and fell back into bed beside you.

"I'm sorry about last night. Jesus. Never again!" He exclaimed.

"It's ok. It was a lot for me too. I know how hard it was for you. The only thing I'm not ok with is that you fought Michael and got obliterated and passed out on me. I needed to talk after we came upstairs, but you were sobbing and passed out way too quickly." You said.

"Well, we might as well talk now. Get it all out there, cupcake!" He sat up and looked at you seriously.

"I just don't know how they received the discussion last night. None of us really handled it well and poor Amanda didn't know a majority of what was happening. I just feel so misunderstood. We're all the same people, but the hardship of that day changed us all. Forever. I don't think its going to be that easy to be casual as I wanted it to be," you looked down. Trevor put a hand on your shoulder.

"It did change us, but I believe it was for the better. We were on a path we needed to change or else we would have ended up in prison or dead. You almost did! That heist was a huge wake up call for me, and I think last night was their wake up call." 

You fell into Trevor's arms, and he laid back. " I wish I could go back in time. It just fucked with our heads way too much." You say, a little choked up.

"I don't. I wouldn't change any of it. Like I said, it put us on a better path," he whispered. He planted a kiss on your forehead. You just laid there quietly and peacefully, wanting to go back to sleep.

Just then a knock comes on the door and it opens, Michael pops in. "Hey, guys. Trev, get dressed. You and I are going out. (Your name), you're having girl day with Amanda. She's downstairs making mimosas."

"Oh, ok. Well, I guess I'll see you both tonight. Behave boys!" You say as you kiss Trevor and leave him to dress, while you follow Michael downstairs.

Amanda is standing on a chair, looking through a cupboard for champagne flutes. Michael assists her by pulling the chilled champagne and orange juice out. She hands Michael two glasses, and he puts them down on the kitchen island. She hands him two more, and again he places them on the island. Tracey walks in and asks if she can have one too, so she pulls out a fifth glass and hands it to Michael. He gives Amanda a hand off the chair. She pours the champagne and he pours the orange juice.

"Here you are, (your name)," Amanda hands you a drink.

"It's been so long since I've had one of these," you take a sip, "Oh god, this is so good!"

"I know, right?! We save the champagne for special occasions, so we don't have them too often either. Can you give this one to Trace?" She hands you another one. Michael takes his and plops himself in front of the tv. 

"Well don't I feel special being considered a special occasion!" You say jokingly as you go into the dining room and place the other glass next to Tracey. "Here, Trace," you notice her overpacked bag, "How are you enjoying college?"

"Ah, thanks aunt (your name)!" She smiles and takes a sip. "Its like really hard work!"

"Yeah, I remember those days! Just be careful with putting too many things in your bag. I had a lot of back aches back in those days."

"Trace, take the bus today! You're not drinking and driving!" Michael calls from the living room.

"You're one to talk!" She yells. "Anyway, I gotta get going. Maybe we can hang out soon?"

"I'd love that," you both smile at each other. 

Tracey slings her bag over her shoulder and you go back into the kitchen with Amanda. You see Trevor in the hallway, coming towards you. You hand him a mimosa and he looks confused at the dainty glassware. He smells it and takes a sip. Immediately, he spits it out and it goes everywhere. "What is this shit?! It tastes like dirt!" 

"It's champagne, Trevor! You're taste buds are absolutely shot from only drinking that shitty beer all these years and chugging whiskey last night," you tease him. You grab a couple paper towels and try to clean up what you can of Trevor's mess. Then, you pour the rest of his drink into your glass and you sip the rest that won't fit in the glass. 

Michael appears from the living rooms. "Ready to go, man?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," T answers. "I'll see you later. Probably with the rage of a thousand angry gods from hanging out with this guy, so we can make sweet love all night long, sweet cheeks!" He kisses you on the cheek and walks out with Michael.

You blush and look at Amanda, "So, whats on our agenda?"

"I scheduled massages for us. I also have a stack of new chick-flicks and a freezer full of ice cream that I thought we could get into," She smiles deviously.

"Sounds good to me!" 

-

"Thank you so much for the massage! I really needed that. I didn't even realize how tense my shoulders were until now!" You say to Amanda as you both walk in the door.

"I know! That's why I insist on getting them frequently. I keep trying to get Michael to come with me; he carries a lot of tension in his shoulders and back."

"Same for Trevor! I couldn't convince him to go get a massage either. He'd beat up the masseuse and swear they were trying to feel him up," you laughed to yourself and Amanda smiled awkwardly.

"So, chick flicks and ice cream?" She asks.

"Hell yeah! I'll get the ice cream while you set up the movie. What flavor do you want?"

"I think Michael just got some kind of fudge, caramel thing," says Amanda.

You part ways with Amanda as she goes into the living room through the archway across from the stairs. You scavenge the freezer and find numerous amounts of pint-sized ice cream cartons. You turn over a couple of them to examine their labels. You find a cookie dough one, which you grab for yourself. You also spot a double fudge turtle, which you grab for Amanda. With ice creams in hand, you meet Amanda in the living room. She's on the floor, fiddling with the DVD player. Their tv was an over-sized projector screen hanging over the fireplace, which you thought was pretty pointless and definitely a fire hazard. You valued the coziness of a fireplace over an expensive and bigger way to watch tv. All of a sudden, a production company's logo flashed on the projector screen and Amanda sat next to you on the sectional. You handed her an ice cream and a spoon. The previews on the DVD start, and you both dig in to your ice creams.

Amanda looks down at hers for a while, and digs around, "Can I ask you something kinda personal?"

"Of course! You know I'm open with you," you say with a mouthful of cookie dough ice cream.

"Why is Trevor...well...the way he is?" She asks sheepishly.

"Oh boy, thats a loaded questions!" You laugh.

"Sorry if it's too personal," she trails off.

"No, no, it's fine. I'll tell you," you say as you take one more spoonful of ice cream. "His parents really did a number on him. His father used to hit him and then left him in a shopping mall."

A look of horror crossed Amanda's face, "How?! I couldn't imagine! Even if my kids pissed me off!"

"Some people just shouldn't be parents, but oddly enough I'm glad he was because they gave me Trevor. I just wish his parents had treated him better. So yeah, that was his experience with his dad. His mother was just always so overbearing and tore him down verbally every chance she got. Thank god she's in jail right now. I've been around her a few times."

"Trevor's mother is in jail?! For what?!" Amanda is shocked at everything you reveal to her.

"She is doing a lot of time for prostitution," you smirk.

"Why am I surprised?" Amanda asks rhetorically.

"That's pretty much what made Trevor who he is today. Just years of constant abuse. It was happening every day nonstop. That and the death of his brother, but they were never that close."

"Trevor has a brother?! He's got quite a history!" She says shocked.

"I know, and more keeps getting added to that complicated history. Sometimes I wish I could just put him in a bubble, so he can just get a break," you say.

"Listen, I will never understand you and Trevor, but honestly it's a pretty beautiful love story," she smiles.

"Thanks, Amanda," you smile.


	13. The Night After

The end credits begin to roll, and Amanda sniffles beside you. You look over at her and she's crying, so you scoot over and hug her. She hugs back. "You ok?" You snicker.

"Yeah," she starts, "that was just such beautiful ending! I didn't picture her ending up with that guy!"

"They were childhood friends, I saw that coming a mile away," you add.

Amanda wipes the tears from her eyes and gets herself together. "I'll throw away the empty ice cream cartons."

"I'll put the spoons in the dishwasher." You say, following her into the kitchen.

"I have another personal question," she smiles.

"Shoot," you challenge her.

"Have you and Trevor ever considered getting married?" She crosses her arms deviously and leans against the counter.

You look at her with a smirk, "Yeah, we talked about it. I was pretty shocked because I didn't think Trevor was that kind of guy."

"Ok, so spill the excuse for why you two haven't! Michael and I haven't been together as long as you two, so tell me why!"

"Ok, ok, Amanda! We were both worried that the F.I.B. or I.A.A. would track us down because we have to use our real names on the marriage license," you explain.

"Oh what a load of bullshit!" She yells. "Michael could probably work something out with that Dave guy."

"Why do you want us married so bad?" You wonder.

"It's way past time! You two should have been married with kids by now! Speaking of kids-"

You cut her off, "We're not having kids."

"Why not?" She slumps defeatedly.

"Tracey and Jimmy are college-aged! Thats a weird age gap for our kids. Plus, I don't think I can get pregnant and Trevor has some serious doubts about being a father," you tell her.

"So you guys talked about it a little and then just dropped the subject?"

"Kinda, I guess," you shrug.

Amanda squinted at you, "Have you two tried to get pregnant?"

"Jesus, Amanda! No! However, there were more than enough times that would have led to me getting pregnant and I didn't!"

"So you assumed you can't have kids?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, even if I could get pregnant, it's too late for us." you say.

"Oh come on! Every girl has that dream with the man she loves!" Amanda whines.

"Yeah, I did. I guess too much was happening and it never happened. Trevor always said he didn't know how to be a father and he's fully aware of his rage issues, so it's just for the better that we didn't. It was enough for us to see Jimmy and Tracey when we could." You sighed.

Amanda looked at you with sympathy, "Yeah, but it still has to hurt. However, there's still time for him to put a ring on it!"

"Put a ring on what?" Trevor strides in with Michael close behind.

"On (your name)," Amanda answers.

Trevor stands beside you and puts an arm around your shoulders, "Believe me, Amanda, I've been wanting to do that for years."

"What's your excuse?" Amanda asks Trevor.

"Hmph," Trevor ponders, "I guess so much was going on with us that we just put it on hold."

"I was a hardcore bank robber and managed to marry Amanda and have kids," Michael laughs as he spites Trevor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that half-assing my entire life would make everything just fall into place for me! Oh that's right, because I'm loyal and don't agree to have my friends killed!" Trevor snaps back.

"So you guys had a nice day together?" You ask jokingly. Amanda tries not to laugh.

"Yeah, actually. I think we needed bro time," Michael says as he pulls a cigar from his shirt pocket.

"You haven't earned the right to call me bro," Trevor says, half joking.

"You got it, bro," Michael smiles and gives Trevor two pats on the back before walking out into the backyard.

Trevor rolls his eyes. "So how was your night, ladies?"

"It was great! It felt just like old times!" Amanda exclaimed.

"Yeah, it was amazing! We got massages, watched movies, and ate ice cream," you added.

"I don't even remember the last time I had a girls' day. Well, anyway, I'm going off to bed. I'm not usually up this late. Goodnight, guys."

"Goodnight, Amanda! Thanks for today," you call after her.

"Goodnight!" Trevor says too.

"Should we go sit with Michael?" You turn to Trevor.

"Why not?" he says.

You and Trevor walk through the dining room and out into the backyard, holding hands. Michael was laying on a lounge chair, next to the pool. The cigar he took out from his pocket was lit and in his hand. His eyes were closed. You and Trevor sat next to each other on the lounge chair next to Michael.

"It's absolutely beautiful out here, Michael," you note.

"Yeah, I know. That's why I like to come out here. It's quiet and quite a sight," he opens his eyes an smiles.

"Yeah, beautiful blah, blah, blah. We should plan a heist. Just like old times!" Trevor blurts out.

"Trevor?!" You playfully hit his arm.

"Did he really just say that?" Michael looks at you.


	14. The Lost

"Michael is in Witness Protection! He can't just go back to robbing and killing like we can, Trevor!" You yell at him.

"Why not?! Fuck those F.I.B. pigs!" He paces.

"Let me explain this to you one more time, T," Michael starts.

Just then your phone rings. You pull it out of your pocket and look at the glowing screen. A knot forms in your stomach. "I gotta take this guys," you say but they don't hear you over their own argument. Quickly, you walk to the tennis court and whisper a hello into the phone.

"Hey, where are you?"

"We're in Los Santos. Is everything ok?" You ask.

"Yeah, yeah, everything is fine. I was just wondering why I haven't seen much of you or Trevor. Not that I can complain about not seeing Trevor. Anyway, what are you two doing in L.S.?"

You sigh, "Tying up loose ends."

"Well that's cryptic. You two planning something big?"

"No, it was just time for us to pick up some pieces from the past. You know how that goes. That's what brought you and Trevor and I to Sandy Shores," You added.

"Sure is. At least my loose ends were already tied up before I left Liberty City," he chuckles.

"Well call yourself lucky!" You laugh playfully. "Doesn't it make you wonder though? Is Sandy Shores just a place where everyone goes to escape?"

"I think Sandy Shores is a place you go as a last resort. I definitely didn't have anywhere else to go. I lost everything but my closest friends in Liberty City."

"I lost everything but Trevor in North Yankton," you said.

"Is that why you're with him?" He asks plainly.

"No," you say in a questioning manner. He had never said anything like this to you. "Johnny, why did you call me?"

There's a pause before he replied. "I miss you."

"Oh boy. How much have you had to drink?"

"Not enough," he mumbles.

"Where's Ashley?" You ask.

"Who knows. Probably screwing the next guy with a crystal stash."

You think for a second, trying to figure out how to help him when you were miles away. You began to pace and you noticed Trevor coming down the steps. "Shit," you say to yourself. "I gotta go, Johnny K. I'll call you in the morning." You end the call and shove your phone in your pocket.

"Who's calling you at this hour anyway," Trevor asks as he kisses your cheek and puts an arm around your shoulder.

"It was Johnny."

"What did that biker scum want?" Trevor's brow creases in confusion.

"I'm not quite sure. He doesn't know where Ashley is. I think I'm going to text her."

"Why do you seem so nervous?" He asks.

"He was drunk. You know he's very careful about things like that. Something's wrong."

Trevor shrugged. "Maybe when he sobers up you'll figure it out."

"Yeah, maybe. Anyway, I think I'm going to bed." You tell him.

"Already? Ok. I'll be up soon. Goodnight," he puts his hands on your cheeks and kisses you on the forehead. You smile as he walks back to Michael.

You pull your phone back out as you make your way into Michael's house. One of the first contacts in your phone is Ashley Butler. You select her name and text her: "Hey! What are you up to?" Every second she didn't text back felt like a century. You prayed that she was safe and not with some guy. Trevor knew that you felt responsible for her and Johnny. Even though they were a part of the motorcycle gang Trevor hated, they had become good friends of yours. Because of you, there was peace between them and Trevor. You not only felt like you had to protect the two of them, but you had to keep everything civil within the Lost Motorcycle Club because Trevor would kill every last one of them if they went off the deep end. Just then, your phone vibrated in your hand. Ashley had responded. Yes!

Ashley: "Hey, babe! Just chilling out at Yellow Jack Inn. Why, whats up?"

You: "Have you talked to Johnny lately?"

Ashley: "Yeah, I was at home with him before I came here to the bar."

You: "He just called me and he didn't sound good."

Ashley: "Well... We had a fight. Thats all."

You: "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ashley: "Sure, just let me get outside and I'll call you."

You: "Ok."

A minute or so later, your phone rings and you sit on the bed. "Hey, so what's up?"

"So earlier today, I came home around 11. I had gone out to that other bar across town and fell asleep there. When I get home, Johnny K is up and he accuses me of fucking every guy I see just so I can get some crystal! I told him, 'I don't do that no more, baby. I haven't done crystal in months!' But he doesn't believe me! Can you believe that?"

"Slow down, Ash! I mean you totally used to do that, so it might be hard for him to trust you. However, I believe you. The last time you had a close call. Plus, I can tell when you're high and I know you haven't been."

"Thank you! Can you tell him that?! Oh, you know what else he said?!"

"What, Ash?"

"I don't know why he has a bug up his ass about Trevor, but he asked me if I had ever asked him for crystal! I told him, 'Baby, I'm scared to go near that psychopath let alone ask him for anything!' No offense, (your name)."

"None taken," you laugh, "Trevor doesn't manufacture anymore, so I can vouch for you. He has an addictive personality, so I told him to have someone else run the crystal business for you. He doesn't even know where Chef cooks it."

"I'll go home and check on Johnny. He doesn't drink that often, you know that, so I am worried about him. Sometimes he's just too confusing for me. I'll feel like he really loves me and then other times it feels like he's distracted by something. I've wondered if he's in love with someone else. I guess that's why I got so angry with him. If anyone's cheating, its him."

"I don't think Johnny would do that to you. I can tell he loves you." 

"Let's hope you're right," you can hear an engine start up in the background. "If he's with someone else, I'm about to find his ass. Anyway, I'm heading over now. I'll text you when I get home."

"Ok, Ash. Drive safe." You hung up the phone.


	15. And the Damned

"Trevor?" You softly whispered as you kissed him on the cheek. He was snoring slightly. "Trevor?" You said a little louder. You put a hand on his cheek. He began to come to.

"What is it? Are you ok?" He asked sleepily.

"Yes, but I just got off the phone with Ron. We need to go back to Blaine County. The Lost MC are starting to cause issues for business," you inform him.

"What do you mean? We had an agreement since you're friends with Johnny and Ashley," he says as he slowly sits up.

"I thought we did too. I packed all of our things and Michael helped me load it in the Bodhi. He said we can come back and stay as soon as we can, but we gotta get going for now. Apparently they've intercepted a weapons drop and they're selling product in our territory. Ron can't handle it on his own since Wade is gone too. I left out an outfit for you. Put it on and meet me downstairs."

"I love it when you take charge, sweet cheeks," he smiled deviously as he rubbed his eyes.

"Hurry, Trev." You say to him as you go back downstairs in a rush. Amanda looks saddened as she hands you a store bought muffin. Michael stoically sips his coffee. "Both of you look so depressed."

"We are!" Amanda says.

"We have really enjoyed seeing you and Trevor again. We kinda don't want you two to go," Michael adds.

"I know, I know," you say, "I promise we'll be back soon though. I'm going to discuss buying a place in L.S. with Trevor. I like it here a lot more than Sandy Shores." Trevor comes barreling down the steps and you give him the other half of your muffin. He eyes it for a few seconds, smells it, and then devours it. "Ready to go?" You ask him.

-

"I know, I'm sorry. We'll be back as soon as possible though. It's urgent though and Ron needs us as soon as possible," you say.

"You promise you're coming back?" Wade asks.

"Yes! In fact, we'll be coming back to the Vanilla Unicorn more often to keep up business there too. It's better that you stay in Los Santos. I have no idea what's gong to happen when we get back." You tell him.

"Ok then," he said defeatedly," I'll tell Floyd."

"Ok. Bye Wade. Text or call if you need anything."

You hung up and tossed the phone into the cup holder. Trevor looked very focused on the road. His left arm was resting on the car door and supporting his head as he drove with his right hand. He looked so damn good like that, but you could tell he was slightly annoyed and frustrated. You didn't know if it was at you for making him get up early or if it was at The Lost. Maybe both? Looking to your right, you recognized the area. You were about to get off the highway. Just making a left, keeping straight for a few minutes, and then a right and you would be home. Trevor hadn't said much on the trip back home. 

"You ok, babe?" You asked him.

"No. I'm fucking angry."

At least he was being honest. "At?"

"Those fucking bikers. We have been cool with them for so long because of Johnny and you being friends. What is the problem now? And why did it happen when we were on vacation?!"

"How do you think I feel?" You sigh.

"You probably feel like its your fault, but you should know that it isn't. Johnny is the one that decided to start shit," he says as he pulls up to the trailer. Ron comes running out.

"Boy am I glad to see you two again!" Ron goes to hug Trevor, who bats him away. You indulge him though.

"So what's the situation, Ron?" You ask.

"I've received word that they're still intercepting arms and drug runs and also trading within our territory. They also, uh, ransacked the lab, " he tried to mumble the last part.

"THEY WHAT?!" Trevor roared. " (Your name), you take care of the trading issues. I'm going to find Chef. Those bikers tried to fuck me over a second time, but I'm going to fuck them first!"

"You got it, Trev," you ran into the garage behind the trailer. You pulled an assault rifle off the wall and got onto the red ATV.

Trevor got into his truck. You both went straight out to the highway, but Trevor went left and you went right towards the Yellow Jack Inn. You felt so betrayed by Johnny. You, him, and Ashley had been friends for years and you didn't understand why anything like this would happen. You two were so close. You rode faster, past the inn. You saw a cloud of smoke rising and rode towards it. Surely, they would be going towards it too. Luckily word wouldn't have gotten around that you and Trevor were back in town. Suddenly, you heard the sound of a motorcycle engine closing in. You saw three of them up ahead, speeding towards the smoke. Perfect. You tried to go as fast as you could and rode up to a vantage point next to the product drop. The three bikers dismounted and went up to the trade box. The were suppose to leave the crystal in one box and take the other one, which held the payment. You quickly picked them off from the vantage point before they noticed you. You slid down the hill and grabbed the box with the money in it and got back on the ATV. More bikers would be on their way soon.

Not but a couple minutes later, you heard more motorcycles. This time the sound was coming from behind. You checked the road behind you quickly and saw two guys coming up. There couldn't be too many more of them. You knew that Johnny had been struggling to rebuild the chapter. You took the rifle in your right hand and steered with the left. You turned around when it felt comfortable and took a couple shots at them. It was satisfying to see them fall off and their bikes slide across the street. You sped as quickly as the ATV would let you, but it would still be a while before you could make it to the Yellow Jack Inn. You had a sneaking suspicion they would be encroaching upon your territory there too.

When you got to the inn, you practically ran inside. "You're still banned!" the bartender said to you. "Oh shut up, what're you going to do about it," you said out of breath. You turned and looked inside the bar. There were two of them in the back. You slowly approached them.

"What are you doing here?" One of them asked.

"I could ask the same of you two. You know this is Trevor's territory."

"It's ours now. Johnny gave the word," the other one laughed.

"I don't think so," you said through gritted teeth.

"So cute and feisty!" The first one said.

You punched him right in the face and it knocked him clean out. The other one immediately grew serious and tried to grab you and restrain you. However, you ducked, ran behind him, and choked him out from behind. After a few seconds he passed out, but you still held on which killed him. You fired one round into the head of the other and went to leave. Everyone stared at you in silence. "You're double banned," the bartender said. "Fine," you replied.

You got back on the ATV and rode down the street back to the trailer. You felt confident that all the bikers were gone. Trevor had cleared out The Lost MC trailer park before you and Johnny became friends. So, you took a slow and leisurely ride back to the trailer. As you passed the gas station, you noticed Ron in the middle of the street, looking towards the Sandy Shores sign. Trevor's truck was back. As you neared even more, you noticed Ashley was hunched over a mass. You could hear her crying. Trevor cam out of the trailer to greet you. 

"The Lost Motorcycle Club will no longer be an issue!" He announced with a smile. You tossed him the rifle as you got off the ATV. You went towards Ron, who was blocking your view of your best friend. Then, you saw that Ashley was draped over Johnny's body. You ran over to him and kneeled down.

"Ash! What happened?!" You felt tears form in your eyes.

"What do you think happened?!" She sobbed. "Trevor happened!" 

You looked over at him, "I wasn't gone that long! What did you do?!"

"He pushed him down and bashed his head in!" Ashley answered for Trevor. "You'll all pay for this! All of you!" She screamed. 

You stared at her blankly before standing and walking away emotionless. You walked by Ron who could only stare. Trevor was proud of himself and said something to you as you walked back into the trailer, but you tuned it out. You went into the bedroom and laid down.


	16. Damages

"Again, I'm so sorry. I know that doesn't even begin to help when you've lost someone you love so much, but I really need to speak to you. Please, Ash. You know I had nothing to do with this." Trevor comes up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder. "Please return my phone calls, Ash. At least let me know you're still alive." You hit end and threw your phone on the couch, not caring where it landed.

Trevor picks your phone up, places it on the table, and sits on the couch across from you. He stares at you. You didn't know what was going through his head, but you knew he was trying to find the words. "You know I never like Johnny," he says softly.

"I know, Trevor, you don't have to remind me," you answer curtly.

"No, listen to me. I never liked him, but I gave him a chance because of you. This is the first time I've ever felt sorry for hurting someone because it hurt you." He paused a second. "I need you to understand that what I did was solely because of business. He betrayed your friendship."

"I know, and I think thats what is troubling me the most. I'm saddened, but I can't be truly sorry because he knew messing with our business would lead to this. I'm just so confused. We were really good friends and I just can't figure out why he did this."

"Come here," Trevor waved you over gently and then patted his lap.

You sat on his legs, leaned back, and rested your head on his shoulder. His strong, warm arms wrapped around you and he interlocked his fingers at the base of your hip. You felt extremely safe and forgot about Johnny for a second. However, another thought quickly replaced it. "Trevor?" You sat upright and looked at him seriously.

"Yes?"

"I want to move." You said plainly.

He chuckled and then realized you were serious when you didn't laugh too. "Ok. Where?"

"Ok? You're alright with that?" You were surprised. You thought it was going to take a couple of arguments before he would agree.

"What did I tell you before I left for deployment?" He asked.

"You promised you'd get me out of North Yankton and that you'd take care of me and do anything to make sure I was happy." You both smiled at the memory.

"I know I didn't exactly do all of those things when we moved here, but we had no idea the Ludendorff heist was going to go the way it did. We're better off now then when we first got here. I pawned off the Vangelico take when you were with Amanda. Michael had gone in to some fancy-shmancy theater to secure us seats. Also, the business here has been doing really well. We can now afford to get out of Sandy Shores." He smiles.

You hugged him. "Exactly what can we afford though? And are you sure about stepping away from the business here?"

"We won't be stepping away from here. Ron and Chef can run it, although they're going to have to learn a thing or two about operating a business. And we can move anywhere you like." He replies.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure! You wouldn't believe what those yuppies would pay for a gaudy tennis bracelet." He said matter-of-factly.

"I want to move to Los Santos."

Trevor looked slightly surprised. "You want a big L.S. mansion?"

"Or something like Floyd and Debra's apartment." You added.

"If we're moving to the city, then why would we downsize to an apartment?" 

"Anything is an improvement from this trailer, Trevor." You looked around at the brownish-yellow walls and the ants crawling over the floor."

"What's wrong with the trailer?!" He asks like he's offended. He pauses a minute and then says, "No, I'm not getting an apartment. That's like getting a nice version of a trailer. They have the same amount of space. This is my time to spoil you now that I can. When we go back to Los Santos, we need to look around to see what our options are."

You lay your head back on his shoulder, "I love talking about house-hunting. It makes me feel like we're normal." Just then a knock came on the door causing you to jump. You and Trevor looked at each other confused. You got up slowly and answered the door. It was Ashley. She was crying.

"I got your calls. I'm sorry I didn't answer them, but I needed a little time to think." She sobbed.

"Don't be sorry. I completely understand." You told her.

"I found these," she held up two papers in her hand. "Johnny wrote them. They're for you. At first I considered not giving them to you because I was so angry. You're still my best friend though and you didn't do anything wrong. They gave me closure, even if it wasn't what I wanted. I'm hoping they'll do the same for you. As much as I want to still hang out with you, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Ash-" You started, but then she cut you off again.

"You'll understand after you read them and also because I can't be near Trevor after what he did. Just answer one question for me?" She asked numbly.

"Of course. Anything."

"Did you and Johnny ever cheat together?" She asks with the same numbness.

"What kind of fucking question is that?!" Trevor yells as he gets off the couch.

"Trevor, please!" You put a hand up, signaling for him to calm down.

"No, Ashley. I would never do anything like that to you. Where would you even get that idea?" You asked, slightly offended that she assumed you would do such a thing.

"Just read the letters." She answered.

"Well, rest assured that Johnny and I never had anything but a friendship between us. Trevor and I have been in love since we were in our late teens. I'd never betray anyone's trust in me."

"I do trust you, but I had to ask or else I'd always have that little gnawing feeling in my head. Anyway, I gotta go," she pulls you into a strong hug. "I love you, (your name). You will always be like a sister to me, but this is for the best."

"I love you too, Ash. But I can't agree." You say to her as she goes down the steps to the front porch. She turns, blows a kiss, and waves. You pretend to catch it and wave goodbye to her. The door to the trailer closes and Trevor looks infuriated. 

"I want to read those too," he says.

"Want me to read them aloud?"

"Please." He says with his teeth gritted.

You open the one that is slightly yellowed, so it must be older. "Dear (your name), I have absolutely no idea why I'm writing this. I'll never send it and you'll never see it. I guess that thing they say about 'writing it down on paper can be cathartic' is somewhat true. Writing was always one of those things I was pretty good at, but I never got the chance to do much of it. Anyway, you've always been my go-to person when something was bothering me, but I can't go to you with this. So, I'm writing it here. Tonight, I've finally realized what that feeling is when I see you. I think I've fallen in love with you. I realized it when you, Ashley, and I went out to Yellow Jack Inn tonight. I love seeing you smile and laugh. I love how you genuinely listen and care for what I have to say. I don't want to make it sound like I don't love Ashley because I do love her more than words can express. The love I have for her is just different. Ashley and I have had to work for it, break it, and then rebuild it. The love I have for you is so effortless. You don't make It hard to love you because you love and care for everything about life. You don't need anyone or anything to make you feel better about yourself. Ashley and I both lack your confidence, which makes it really difficult to be in a relationship. She has broken my heart so many times because of her addiction and lack of being faithful, but I could never imagine you and Trevor going through that. I can tell you two are very happy and sometimes I get jealous of him. I want to be the one that makes you smile and laugh, but that's not the way it was meant to be. So, I hope you two are truly happy and that he's good to you because I couldn't bear the thought of you getting hurt. I think that's enough writing for now, now that I feel significantly less of a man and more like a whiny teenage girl writing in her diary. I wish nothing but the best for you. And Trevor. Yours, Johnny K." You were on the verge of tears. Although you weren't quite sure if it was because you were sad, angry, or touched. Trevor wasn't saying anything. He just sat there, motionlessly, on the couch. "I don't know if I'm glad or not that Ashley brought these over." You said.

"I'm not sure either. It makes me glad that I killed his sorry ass, but I also wish I knew about that letter while he was alive. I would've," he thought for a second, "killed him all over again."

"Trevor, you know I knew nothing about this or how he felt, right?" You asked.

"Yeah, just like he said, I could never imagine you doing anything that Ashley did to Johnny. I've trusted you with everything in me since the day I laid eyes on you. There is something about you that is so authentic. I've never doubted you, which is very important to someone with my past."

"Good, because I'd never do anything like that. That's completely out of my character. So, should we read the second letter?" You ask.

"Might as well," he sighed.


	17. Moving On

The second letter had, "For (your name)", sprawled across the front in Johnny's handwriting. Trevor watched you unfold the letter and you began to read. "(Your name), I'm sorry it had to come to this. This letter is also an apology to Trevor. Someone from my past resurfaced. I thought I had seen the last of them in Liberty City. I was told that if I did not attempt to move in on Trevor's business that Ashely and I will be hunted down and they will destroy everything left in Blaine County. If you're reading this, it means that I am no longer alive. It also means that I have killed this person that blackmailed me. This is me telling you that you're both safe and you hold a monopoly in Blaine County. Yours, Johnny K."

"He's a fucking idiot!" You shout. "He knew he could tell me anything! Why didn't he just come to us and ask for help?"

"I think he probably just had enough. He came to the trailer after I went to the lab. He knew I would kill him. I have half a mind to think that maybe it was a setup." Trevor thought out loud.

"I don't think so. In the letter he says we're safe. He gave himself up so that we could have everything. As nice as that is, I just don't understand." You say.

"I don't either," Trevor adds.

"Can we just go back to Los Santos? I don't really want to be here any longer than I have to." You plead to Trevor.

"Yeah, I'll pack our stuff up. I don't really want to be here either. There's nothing left for us to do here." he says.

"Ok, I gotta talk to Ron really quick. I'll be right back." You say to Trevor as you run down the porch steps and through the iron fence. You go to the trailer next door and knock on the back door. Ron opens it almost immediately, which made you wonder if he was watching you. "Hey, Ron. I wanted to tell you that Trevor and I are going back to L.S., so just a heads up."

"So soon?" He says looking puzzled.

"Yeah, in fact we're going to move there. As of now, we have the entire trade of drugs and arms in Blaine County. Trevor and I want to extend it into the city." You tell him.

"But what about me? What about the business here? What about the," he stops and looks around before whispering, "lizard people?"

You laugh at the last thing. "We'll be ok, Ron. We'll have you come visit us. We'll still have the business here. In fact, Trevor suggested you and Chef run the business here. I agree with him," you smiled, which made Ron smile.

"I would like that very much," he replies.

"She's all yours," you nod towards the trailer and toss Ron the key that was in your pocket.

"Good luck in Los Santos!" He calls as you walk back to Trevor.

"Thanks, Ron. We will!"

"Ready to go?" Trevor asks.

"Yep!" You answer as you climb into the passenger seat. 

~

"We don't really want neighbors," you start. "Well, we can have neighbors, but I at least want some space in between us. I don't see the point in having a mansion when the neighbor's house is like three inches away."

"Ok, so we're talking about a house a little higher in the Vinewood Hills maybe? Some of the larger mansions that are in the city take up one entire block, so the closest neighbor will be across the street on the next block." Says Josh Bernstein, the real estate agent showing you and Trevor houses. "This next house we're pulling up to should suit your tastes better. It's not too traditional and not too contemporary."

All three of you exit the car. You and Trevor follow Josh up to the gate, which he unlocks and allows you and Trevor to walk in first. The driveway is long and winds down behind the house, which you like immediately. The landscaping was spectacular. Josh hurries in behind you two and immediately goes to unlock the front door. Trevor puts a hand on your lower back as he looks all around. Both of you follow Josh inside the house. You're greeted by an enormous foyer. The floor was white marble! The foyer had an archway on each wall, leading to different rooms. If you're standing with your back to the door the archway in front of you leads into the main room. The archway to the right leads into a dining room and the archway to the left leads into an office. You and Trevor follow Josh into the main room, who is going on and on but you can't hear him over your amazement. The main room is even bigger than the foyer, which you didn't think was possible. Upon going into the room, to the left would be the kitchen and to the right is a sitting and TV area. Theres another TV area in a room that would be behind the office. The whole opposite wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard and the city of Los Santos. You and Trevor stepped through the sliding glass doors and onto the balcony.

It was the late evening. A soft breeze was passing through. You look at Trevor and he appears just as happy as you feel in that moment. He wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you look at the surroundings. A pool is downstairs in the backyard, something you always wanted at your house. You decide to turn around and see what that view looked like. You could see the other houses on this street, but they all looked smaller in comparison to this one. You looked even further in the distance. "Trev?"

"Yes?"

"we've looked at so many houses today. I think this is the one."

"I think so too," he smiles. "Hey, Josh?!" Trevor calls. "We'll take it!"

"Well alright then. I'll go get the paperwork out of the car and you can have her right here on the spot!" He says excitedly.

"Really?" I ask.

"Yes, really!" He exclaims.

"They do things so strangely in L.S." you say.

~

Trevor signed the papers and told Josh he had the money, but would mail a check when he got it. Josh just handed over the keys like a complete idiot. There's no way this guy was a legitimate real estate agent, but you and Trevor weren't legitimate customers. You didn't judge. Josh drove the three of you back to the real estate agency to meet with a design firm that partnered with the agency. They would help you furnish the house. So, you and Trevor flipped through a millions books and each one of their pages. These were all the furnishings you could buy in San Andreas. You two flipped through each page until you selected furniture for each and every room. Then, you and Trevor hopped back in his truck and went to the bank. Trevor deposited all the money you two had made recently. The house barely took a chunk out of it, which was nice to have extra money for a change. He immediately ordered two checks to be sent out; one for the purchase of the house and the other for all the furniture. Finally, the two of you were able to go home to your new house. 

Trevor unlocked the door and you were grinning from ear to ear. He pushed the door open and turned around to face you. "Come here, sweet cheeks," he said with his arms outstretched. You jumped into his arms and he carried you inside, like a newly married couple. You two realized you just bought a house without seeing the upstairs! Both of you practically ran upstairs and immediately headed for the master bedroom. It took up about one quarter of the upstairs and the master bathroom was like half the size of the foyer!

Trevor grabbed you by the hips, pulled you into him, and planted a passionate kiss on your lips with excitement. It was like Christmas Day, only a million times better! You and Trevor lowered yourselves to the bare floor. He began to kiss you repeatedly, and guided you back until you were laying on the wooden floor and he was above you. "Ready to mark our territory?" He said in a low, sexy whisper right in your ear. 

"Stop stalling, Trevor!"


	18. Flashback #1

"I had a great night out, girls! I needed this! I'll see you all at school tomorrow!" You waved goodbye to all your friends getting in one car. They never understood why you didn't go with them. They were all terrified to be out at night alone, but you loved it. You loved walking through the town streets with the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating your path. Alone time was also very important to you. You liked to have quiet time to reflect on the day.

"Hey, baby," a tall man pins you to the wall with his arms on either side of your head. You hadn't even noticed him. "What are you doing here all alone? Shouldn't some guy be walking you home?"

"W-why? I am perfectly capable of walking myself home," you shivered in the northern San Andreas winter.

"I don't doubt that, but you look pretty lonely. Tell me, you got a fella?" The man smiled eerily.

"No. Could you please get out of my way? My parents wait up for me until I'm home."

"You could make them wait a little longer, right? It's ok." His breath grazes your face.

He placed a hand on your hip and you realized how strong he was. You closed your eyes and asked whatever was listening for this to please not happen right now. You'd walked home by yourself at night so many times, so why now? You had heard about things like this happening on the news before, but you never thought it'd happen to you. Everyone knew each other in this town. Who would do such a thing. And just then, it seemed as though someone had been listening.

"Hey! She asked you to get out of her way," said a guy, who looked around your age. You hadn't noticed him while you were walking either. You looked at him. You had to see who was defending you. He was tall, around six feet. He had dark brown, almost black, hair and eyes to match. You noticed scars over his right brow bone and on the left side of his top lip. He had a good jaw line and cheek bones for a guy, which made you smile. He was quite striking.

"Why don't you mind your own business?" The man said to the guy your age.

He didn't even reply. He just pulled the man away from you by his jacket collar, spun him around before you could blink, and knocked him right out. You were frozen in place. You didn't know what you were thinking or feeling. He looked down at the man to make sure he was out with a disgusted expression. He quickly looked back up to you. "Are you alright?" He asked, offering you his hand.

"Yes, thank you," you said as you put your hand in his. It was warm and softer than his hands looked. He helped you step around the man's body. "I'm sorry I had to do that in front of a lady such as yourself."

"Oh, its ok. There really wasn't any other way to deal with a creep like that. He deserved it," you smiled at him. 

"You're not like other girls. I once did the same thing at a store and this group of girls ran out screaming," he chuckled to himself. 

"So you get yourself in these situations regularly?" You laugh.

"Well," he scratched his head, "you caught me. I've never liked bullies." He smirks innocently.

"I didn't catch your name." You say full of intrigue.

"Oh, the name's Trevor. What's yours?"

"(Your name). Say, would you mind walking me home? I'm a little shaken up after that."

"Of course!"

"Tell me Trevor, where are you from? I know nearly everyone my age in this town, but I haven't seen you around."

"I'm originally from Canada. Specifically, the American and Canadian border region."

"I've always wanted to go to Canada. I've always wanted to go anywhere that isn't here, honestly. I was born and raised here."

"It seems like a nice enough town. Pretty quiet. You don't like it here?"

"No, there's not enough room for a girl with my ambitions and aspirations. Like I just said, I've always wanted to travel. Especially to a big city, like Los Santos. Anyway, what brings you into town?" You ask, with constant interest in this stranger.

"Business," he says quickly.

You laugh at his answer, "Ok, now tell me the truth. There's nothing in this town."

"I guess I'm just a drifter," he shrugged.

"I have to say you picked a hell of a place to drift off to, Trevor. Do you plan on staying here long?" You asked.

"I might just have to so I can watch out for you," he smiled.

"I think that's a good idea," you snickered. "This is my place." You point to a house. Just then your parents burst through the door.

"(Your name), where have you been?! We've been worried sick! Who is this?" They turn to Trevor.

"Mom, dad, this is Trevor. Some creep on Main Street tried to hit on me and he stopped it. I don't know what would have happened if he hadn't come along." You told them.

"Well, thank you very much, young man. We need more kids like you in town." Your mother said.

"Do you want to come in for a little bit? It's freezing out here." Your dad offered. You smiled at Trevor, trying to signal him to come in so you could get to know him more. You couldn't tell what it was, but you had to get to know him. You wished you could talk to him for hours. You could tell just by looking at him that he had so much to say. Both of you could feel the chemistry.

"Oh, no thank you. It's late." He answered politely.

"Are you sure?" Asked your dad.

"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure she got home safe."

"Well, thank you again. I hope we run into each other again." Said your mom.

"On better terms though!" Your dad added.


	19. Raising Hell

Trevor had the pedal to the floor. The wind whipped your hair around. You tilted your head back, taking in the beautiful Los Santos weather. The intro to "Life of Crime" jolted out of the Bodhi's speakers. You quickly turned the volume up as high as it would go. Life couldn't get much better than this. Trevor looked over at you and smiled, placing a hand on your thigh. You placed a soft hand over his and smiled back at him.

"Does this song speak to you or something, crazy cakes?" He grins, yelling over the music.

"That, and I like the guitar in this song." You grin back.

"There's something tucked behind the seats to ease your boredom."

You half turn in your seat and reach a hand down behind Trevor's seat. You pull upwards and before you know it, you're holding a sniper rifle equipped with a scope. "Trevor Philips! Where the hell did you get this and why is it casually tucked in your truck?!"

"Uh, I'm gonna have to plead the fifth on this one, cupcake," he quickly glances at you guiltily. "Ok, ok. I may or may not have come across a gentleman who had some outdated opinions on Canadians."

"Trev!"

"What?!"

"Is it loaded?!"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?!" He smiled, and again you smiled back.

You steadied the barrel on the car door and with your left hand. You carefully placed your right hand around the trigger and peered through the scope. You tried your best to keep an SUV's tires in the crosshairs, and you took the shot. A loud pop came from the car and their tires screeched, causing them to veer off the road. Trevor erupted into laughter and told you what a great shot it was. You repeated this four or five more times and finally put the rifle away. You had gotten significantly better at shooting moving targets since hanging out with Cletus back in Sandy Shores. He's the one that introduced you and Trevor to the art of tire-shooting.

Next, "Pervert" by the Descendents blared on the radio. "Oh look, T," you started, "the song written specifically for you!" You laughed. 

He smirked and slid his hand further up your leg as the radio roared, "I want to fuck you night and day". 

You giggled and pushed his hand back down. You also turned the stereo down as Trev pulled into the Vanilla Unicorn. "You know, I saw the Descendents in concert," you say to Trevor as you walk into the strip club with him.

"Really? I bet that was pretty cool. I've never been to a concert. Too busy murdering all the people who wronged me as a kid," he says nonchalantly. You laugh in reply. "Floyd, Wade," Trevor calls. 

"We was wondering when you two'd come back!" Wade says.

"Yes, well wait no longer," Trevor outstretches his arms. "We have a few orders of business to straighten out."

"Like what?" Wade asks innocently.

"I would like you to be the Chef of Los Santos, Wade." Says Trevor. 

"What do you mean?"

"I want you to start cooking meth for the Trevor Philips Industries branch I'm starting here in Los Santos." T says plainly.

"I don't know how to cook no meth, Trevor!" 

"I know. That's why I had Chef write these instructions for you when we were in Sandy Shores and I want Floyd to help you because I know you can't read either." Trevor produces wadded up papers from his pocket and tosses them at Floyd, who scrambles for the papers on the floor. "I'll figure out the arms part of this soon, hopefully. Alright, gentlemen, I will text you an address for a reliable materials supplier. Floyd, after you both cook it, I want you to be the mule. Alright, now let's go sweet cheeks," Trevor says as he passes you and slaps your ass, "we have business of our own to tend to." 

You two hop back into the Bodhi and Trevor fishes out his phone. He dials a number and then holds the phone to his ear. "Hey, Mikey, me and (your name) are headed your way. We've got something we want to ask your opinion on...Ok...Yep...Sure thing...Ok, Jesus fucking christ...WHAT KIND OF...NOT A FUCKING HIPSTER..."

You take the phone from him, "Hey, Mikey, sorry about Trevor. You know how he gets when he's in business mode."

"Yeah, I sure do. Man, I love pushing his buttons!" He chuckles.

"I totally understand that. It's so easy to do sometimes!" You both laugh. "We'll see you soon, Michael. We're almost there."

"Sounds good. I'm out back by the pool."

"Alright, we'll meet you there."


	20. Flashback #2

Your best friend, Jane, dropped you off at home after school just like she did everyday. You slung your bag over your shoulder as you got out of the car and thanked her for the lift. You practically ran inside, you were so happy to be home on a Friday. Dropping your bags next to the front door, you call out to your parents, "I'm home! I've got to tell you guys about science class today!"

"In here, darling!" Your mother replies. You follow her voice into the living room where your mother and father are sitting on the couch across from Trevor. All of them are laughing. Trevor looks at you as you enter the room and stands, greeting you with a smile.

"Trevor here dropped by to see you," your mother stated.

"I was hoping that I could take you out tonight," said Trevor.

You looked at your parents in confusion. "It's fine by me," your father added. "I'd prefer it after the last time."

"Well, where are we going?" You smiled at the the handsome young man. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you noted how beautifully his dark brown hair complimented his piercing eyes. 

"I was thinking about a movie," he smiled.

"Sounds good! Just let me get my bag." You ran upstairs with a smile. You grabbed your bag and did a little dance of triumph. Tonight was turning out to be the best day you've ever had. You quickly ran back downstairs, and your parents were waiting with Trevor by the door to see you two off. As soon as you had said goodbye to them and had walked down the sidewalk a considerable amount, you had a nagging question to ask him. "So what made you come back?"

"What?" He asked and looked at you in confusion.

"I thought for sure I saw the last of you. What made you come back to take out the girl you saved from some creepy dude?" You wondered.

"I know I'm not the only one that felt it." He said.

"Felt what?"

"Look, I'm not very good with my, uh..." He motions his hand like he's searching for a different word than what he wants to say.

"Emotions?" You interject.

"I guess you could say 'emotions'. It's not easy for me to talk to other people authentically, but you make me want to."

You blushed, "Oh."

"I knew from the first time we made eye contact that there was some kind of connection between us that felt like it was there for years. I want to talk authentically with you and I don't remember ever feeling that way about anyone."

"I know exactly what you mean, Trevor," you smile at him as you arrive to the outdoor theater. He pays for your tickets and the two of you walk away from the counter. He lets you pick where you want to sit, so you choose in the back. The two of you sit under a tree, sort of away from everyone else. The movie doesn't start for a while, so you both take this opportunity to talk.

"Look, you know how I said I want to be authentic with you?"

"Yes," you say with anticipation.

"I'm not a very good person."

"I beg to differ," you say.

"No, I mean, I can be a good person when I want to, but I don't always have the best self control. I've done really bad things," he says and looks to the ground.

"Trev-"

He cuts you off, "I did something really bad."

"Trevor, I don't care. We've all done things we're not proud of, but what matters is the person you are with me."

"I'm going to have to leave town soon, (your name)." He's dark eyes cut to your core.

"I should have known this was too good to be true," you say as you start to get up.

He grabs your wrist, "Please sit. Stay." You listen to him and sit back down. "I'm going to have to leave, but I want to see where this goes. I want to come back and see you."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Well, when are you going to have to leave?" You ask.

"Probably next week, but I want to take you out as much as I can until then."

"Ok, but can you tell me exactly what is causing you to leave town?"


	21. Business Partners...Again

"So, what can I screw up for you two now?" Michael says jokingly, putting a tumbler of whiskey down in front of you and Trevor. 

"Well lets discuss it," Trevor says as he knocks back the whiskey. You eye him as you sip your drink. "I'm starting up my business here in L.S. We're permanent residents now."

Michael looks at Trevor with confusion, "Glad to here you're settling in the city, but what does this have to do with me?"

"I wanted to ask if you had any guys that I can trust?" asks Trevor plainly.

"I might, but why are you asking?" Michael answers.

"I need a driver, specifically. Someone that can drive fast and shoot well, at the same time would be even better."

"I think I got just the guy for you," Michael finishes off his own drink. "His name is Franklin. He's a good kid."

"Alright, I expect you to send me his details."

"Will do, but can I ask what this business of yours is? Could it be a 'I'll stalk your family and climb through your windows while you sleep for pay' kinda thing?" Michael laughs to himself while he pours himself another drink.

"No, try drugs and weapons dealing, you ignorant turd." 

"Ok, boys," you interject, "If we're all chipping in to get this branch running, you two have to make up."

Trevor's phone begins to ring. He just sits there ignoring it, but after the fourth ring he grows too curious. He pulls it out of his jeans pocket and grimaces at the screen, "I gotta take this." He says as he quickly leaves the room and answers in a hushed tone.

"What's that about?" Michael moves his hand with a glass of whiskey in Trevor's general direction.

"I-" you trail off slightly, "I have no idea."

"So when did you two buy a house here?" Michael asks.

"Only a few days ago. As soon as we got back back from Sandy Shores, we went straight to a real estate agency."

"Why here in Los Santos? I thought Trevor liked the anonymity of Blaine County."

"He does like anonymity, but there's hardly any of it in Blaine County anymore. There's really no such thing in such a small town. He knows there's more of it in the city. Plus, we made a promise a long time ago," you say and then take a sip of your drink.

"What kind of promise?" You can visually see Michael growing more curious.

"It was right before he was going to leave for the Canadian Air Force deployment. We didn't know how long we would be apart and we had been dating for almost two years. He knew the only reason I stayed in North Yankton was because of him, so what was I going to do without him there? So, he promised that one day he would get me out of that town and we would have a huge mansion in the heart of Los Santos," you said with a smile.

"He's really not a bad guy. I know he's a psychopath. No, maybe a sociopath. Ah, whatever he is, he can be downright unreasonable. However, he does really care about the people that are close to him. He's dependable, for us at least."

"I know. Ever since we've been together, he has never once gone back on a promise to me. He has never hurt me in any way. As strange as it sounds, he's a good person. He just had a rough life and has awful coping mechanisms." You say. Both you and Michael laugh at the last thing. Trevor strides back in and sits back down beside you quietly. He rests his elbow on the table and rests his head on his hand. You look at him and can tell instantly he isn't happy. 

"Everything ok, man?" asks Michael.

"Yeah, just perfect." Trevor answers plainly.

"That doesn't sound convincing, but I won't push it."

"Well, just send us Franklin's info and we'll get in touch with him." You say, standing up. You put a hand on Trevor's shoulder and then begin to walk towards the door. He follows.

"Alright," Michael says from the threshold, "will do. You kids be safe!" 

"We'll do our best," you laugh. Trevor gets into the Bodhi without saying a word and inserts the key into the ignition. Quickly, he drives back out onto the street. "Alright, T, whats going on with you? Who called."

"Nothing, I'm taking care of it."

"Oh yeah?" You pause for a second and look at him. "Was it her?"

Trevor acts as if he's going to say something and then doesn't. He just nods, putting his elbow on the car door and a hand over his mouth. He nervously scratches at his stubble.

"What does she want?" You ask angrily.

"She's getting out of prison and has no where to go," he sighs.

"We're not helping her, Trevor. All she does is make you feel guilty and take advantage of us."

"You think I don't know that?!" He roars. "I-I'm sorry."

"I know. This is exactly why I hate it when she interjects herself in our life. She makes you so tense." You tell him. "We need to discuss this further before she makes a grand appearance. I don't want her placing a burden or obligation on you, Trevor."


	22. Mrs.Philips

He doesn't answer as he pulls into the driveway of the beautiful craftsman style mansion the two of you just bought. As you and Trevor approach the front door, you notice a police car enter the driveway. You poke Trevor, who had begun to unlock the door. He turns around and notices the police car. You two watch for a second as no one gets out, and then Trevor walks towards the car. An officer gets out and approaches Trevor. You watch as they have a brief conversation. The officer scratches his head and points towards the back of the car. Trevor rubs his forehead and paces. This can't be good. The officer finally walks to the passenger door and opens it. And there she is.

In all her hot pink tights and leopard print shirt glory, there she is. Of course she would do this. It's so typical of her. She probably called as soon as she was released and given free reign of the phone. Hell, she probably called from a cell phone in the back of the car as they were on their way here. Trevor fishes in his pocket and pulls out his wallet, handing the officer some money. What? She must have told the officer she'd pay him if he brought her here. 

Trevor helps get her luggage out of the back of the cruiser and lugs them back towards where you're standing near the door. She follows closely behind him, going on about something. She doesn't seem to notice you until they're right in front of you. 

"Oh, hello, (your name)!" She says eerily kind. 

"Hi, Mrs.Philips," you reply.

"Oh, please. Call me Betty. I couldn't wait to be rid of that last name after me and Trevor's father split. Say, Trevor when are you going to give her that last name and give me grandchildren? You've made me wait long enough! Would you really deprive me, your mother, of the fulfilling role of being a grandchildren?" And just as you thought she had turned a new leaf, she starts the guilt trip.

"Ma, we've already talked about this," Trevor says.

"Really? I don't remember because you never call or write. It had to have been such a long time ago."

"Why don't you just leave that to us? It's a bit of a touchy subject for Trevor," you jump in, trying to get her attention off of Trevor.

"Why? Is he gay? I always thought he was because of how sensitive he is. But please tell me why you two aren't married or parents yet." She urges.

"Not gay!" Trevor calls from some other room in the house.

"He's definitely not gay," you giggle to yourself naughtily, "but we just feel that our, uh, lifestyle isn't well suited for children."

"Are you just saying this because you're infertile? Because I know Trevor isn't; His father was annoyingly fertile." She rolls her eyes.

You're speechless. It was hard enough to talk about what happened in North Yankton with Michael and Amanda, you certainly don't want to get into it with Trevor's mother. "Honestly, we've never tried, so I have no idea what our fertility situation is."

"Well at the very least, when will you two get married?! I love weddings!"

Trevor comes back in the room and puts a drink in front of his mother and sinks into the couch next to you. "I'd love nothing more than to marry her, mom. We've just never found a great time for it."

"I guess I'll just die without ever seeing my only son married or without ever being a grandmother," she sighs. 

"Mom-" Trevor starts.

"Do you really think an ex prostitute and stripper would make a good grandmother?" You blurt out. Your eyes get wide at the shock that you just said that out loud. 

Trevor's mother laughs, "I've always like you, (your name). Trevor is always such a kiss-up and you just say things like they are."

"Trevor taught me to always say what's on my mind" you add, trying to stick up for him, "He's just being a good son by not talking back to his mother."

"Yes, well, I would like to know how the two of you came into being the owners of such a beautiful mansion. Last I checked, Trevor didn't have a cent to his name. Tell me, is he mooching off of you and your family, (your name)?" She asks spitefully.

"No, Trevor and I both have very secure, well-paying jobs." That wasn't exactly a lie, but also not the truth. You couldn't exactly tell her that you two are top-notch criminals.

"Ah, and he neglects to take care of his aging mother. Typical. I carried him for nine months, but you'd never know it. So ungrateful." She adds.

"Let me put it this way, Mrs.Philips, when you were a working woman you used all the money you made on yourself because it was hard-earned money. That's what Trevor and I are doing. We work extremely hard for what we have, so we spend it on ourselves." You don't legitimately believe in a mother neglecting to support her child, but it was the only way you knew how to put it so she would get off the subject of money.

"I suppose that makes sense, but I'm old! A child should take care of their aging mother!"

"Ok look, Mrs.Philips, you can't stay with us. I know you have no where else to go, but we simply can't have you here. Trevor owns his own business, if you must know, and we're under so much stress to get it up and running in the new Los Santos branch. I honestly don't know how you got our address here, but I can assure you it is not your right to know."

"Oh, that little four month stint Trevor did is still in the system. They keep tabs on all your properties and such after you've done time," she says condescendingly. You look at Trevor and he's gone pale. He never wanted her to know about anything he does now. "I don't know what on Earth you did time for, but I simply told them who my son was and that he'd pay for me to be taken to his house."

"It was a mistake. I was wrongfully incarcerated. That's why I only did four months." Trevor tries to make an excuse.

"Right," he laughs, "I don't believe that after all the trouble you got in as a teenager."

"I'll just be one moment," you say as you leave the room. You dig out your phone and look up the Blaine County Penitentiary on EyeFind and then call the first number listed.

"Hello, you've reached Blaine County Penitentiary-" the answering machine says. You hit two on the phone; you already know all the numbers and what department they'll get you. You've had to call before so many times about Trevor's mother.

"Hello, Inmate Services department." A man with a raspy voice answered.

"Yes, you released an inmate earlier today. Her name is Betty Philips. She was brought to her son's house without approval. I was wondering if some kind of exception could be made since she's left, but she really needs to stay somewhere else." You calmly explained to the man.

"Oh yeah, sure, no problem!" He says.

"Really?!" 

"Yeah, this surprisingly happens a lot. This is like the seventh time this month. We're probably going to have to have another meeting about not accepting bribes once we hit ten times this month. Now, because of her age you have a few options, but uh, Trevor Philips is going to have to make the final decision since he is the next of kin listed on her records here. So, if you can have him call, we can discuss the options and get it taken care of." He informs you.

"Right, but is there any way you can tell me the options and I can bring it up to him later? He's a little tied up and not exactly in a great mood because of her."

"There's a link on our website. Go to the homepage, there's a tab that says 'Inmate services', then go to 'Release Alternative Placement', and then there should be a section for inmates over the age of 60. Everything you need to know should be there."

"Alright, thank you," you say.

"No problem!" 

-

You lay comfortably on the bed, watching Trevor who is pacing at the foot of the bed. A baseball bat is on his hand and every now and again, he acts as if he is going to hit something. This is all because of his mother. He doesn't even release his anger when she's around. You would think that would be a good thing, but not for Trevor. "Listen," you start, "I called the penitentiary earlier today. We can have her placed somewhere else, but I need you to calm down because you're the one that has to make the decision. I know you'll feel guilty no matter what you do, but it has to be done."

"I know. Honestly, I wish she would just kick the fucking bucket already." He says, as he sits anxiously on his side of the bed.

"See, you shouldn't say things like that about your parents. That just goes to show she shouldn't be here."

"I know, I know." He says. "I'll call tomorrow."


	23. Flashback #3

Your class filed out of the auditorium as "Pomp and Circumstance" plays. You take your cap off and tuck it under your arm while looking around for your family. You decide to stand by a tree in hopes your family could find you better. Every now and again, you see a friend and exchange quick "congratulations" with one another. You hold up a hand to your brow, shielding your eyes from the sun and you think you see your father. You look behind him and see your mother, grandparents and... you can't quite make him or her out yet. But as they get closer, you see your grandmother laughing with whoever it is. Then, all of a sudden, you realize it's Trevor! You run as fast as you can towards them. Trevor notices just in the kick of time and outstretches his arms. You jump into his arms and he swings you around and then places you back down.

"You came back!" You say excitedly.

"I promised!" He says with a smile on his face. 

Then you remember your family was watching. You hug your parents and then your grandparents next. They all said congratulations and how proud they are of you. You all walked to the car together. Once there, you unzipped your gown and put it back on the hanger you brought in the car. 

"We thought maybe you could ride with Trevor and we'll meet you two at the diner," says your dad.

"Oh ok, that sounds great," you reply. "Thank you." You give him a hug and walk with Trevor to his car. "So, you bought a car since the last time I saw you."

"Yeah, it took everything I earned since I was away. I had to get something so that I could come back to see you," he smiles.

"So which one is it?" You ask as you walk into the parking lot.

"It's not much, but it gets you from A to B," Trevor says as he walks up to a red truck and opens the passenger door for you.

"I like it!" You smile. "It suits you."

"How so?" He asks, shutting the passenger door once you're in and going around to the driver's side.

"It's strong and sturdy," you giggle.

"I can live with that," he says as he turns the radio on. You switch it to Channel X and Trevor looks at you in surprise. "Just what I was going to do. God, I love you." 

-

"I'm going to go to the bathroom. Excuse me," Trevor says as he gets up out of the booth. 

"Just in case the waitress comes while you're in the bathroom, what would you like us to order, Trevor?" Your mother asks.

"Just plain pancakes with bacon on the side."

"Such a sweet boy," your grandmother chimes in with a smile.

"He's very polite. I'll give him that, but does he treat my granddaughter well?" Adds your grandfather.

"He treats her like a princess!" Says your mother.

"I'd say he almost puts me to shame." Your dad says.

"Well I certainly like him a lot," says grandma happily, "You should keep him around."

"I plan to," you blush.

The waitress comes to the table and introduces herself. Everyone puts their order in and she takes the menus. Shortly, Trevor comes back to the table and reclaims his seat next to you in the booth. "Did everyone order?" He asks.

"Yes, we got your pancakes and bacon," you assure him.

"So, Trevor, where was it that you went? We heard so much about you while you were gone, we couldn't wait for you to get back so we could meet you," your grandmother says.

"I went home to Canada for a little bit." He says, but you know that's not true.

"You're Canadian? We never would've guessed!" She laughs.

"That's actually kind of nice to hear. You wouldn't believe how much I get discriminated against when people hear even the slightest of my accent." 

"Sadly, I can believe it. People find every reason in the book to point out differences in others today." Joins your grandfather.

"Well, do you have family in Canada?" Questions your grandmother.

"My mother and brother still live in Canada." Trevor answers.

You knew they were skirting around a topic Trevor wasn't quite ready to deal with, so you decided to steer the conversation in a different path. "I'm just so happy that you found time to see me again, not to mention be here for my graduation. Were you there the whole ceremony?"

"Yeah, of course I was! I called your house earlier this week and your mother picked up. I knew you'd be graduating soon and it'd be a big surprise for you, so we came up with a plan and she promised she wouldn't mention anything to you about it. I was dead set on surprising you." He said.

"Mission accomplished!" You exclaimed as the waitress came back with the food.

-

"Breakfast was great. Thank you for letting me tag along," Trevor says.

"Not a problem at all, Trevor. You're always welcome." Says your mother.

"I think we're all going to just relax back at home. Why don't you two go have fun?" Your father suggests and slips you some spending money. 

"You don't have to tell me twice! Thanks, dad." You tell him and walk off with Trevor.

"I'll have her back by sundown, Mr.(your last name)."

"We trust you, Trevor." Your father calls back to him.

You follow Trevor to his truck. Again, he opens the passenger door for you and closes it before getting in himself. As soon as he gets the car going and the radio starts playing, you turn up the volume. Trevor smiles, which always makes you smile. He drives back towards your house, but right before you get there he turns off to the walk-up movie, where you went on your first date. Again, he pays for your tickets and you both settle underneath the tree you sat under the last time you were there.

"So, are you going to tell me why you left?" You wondered aloud.

"I do want to tell you, but it's going to change the way you see me." He sighs.

"I doubt it." 

"Remember when I told you that I'm not a very good person?" He asks.

"Yeah, but I told you then I don't care what you did. I know you're good to me and that's all I can ask for." 

He stays silent for a few seconds, formulating how exactly he wants to say it. "I never really told you about my upbringing. I mean, you know I don't get along with my mother and brother, but there's so much more to it."

"Well, I'm listening. You know you can trust me," you reassure him.

"My father was," he thinks for a second, "not a great guy. He used to hit me and my brother. You could always tell he was looking for an opportunity to leave, and my brother and I wanted him too. While that was going on, my mother would verbally abuse us. She always knew exactly what to say to make you feel worthless, but I always told myself that she did the best she could." He grew quiet.

"Trevor, I had no idea. I'm so sorry," you place a hand on his to try to comfort him. "It's amazing how well you turned out with a childhood like that."

"That's the thing; I didn't turn out well. It's really fucked me up, and I know it has, but I have no control over my anger because of it." 

"I have yet to see it," you mention.

"I hope you never do, but if you want to be with me I want you to know that all of this is a part of me."

"Ok, but what did you do that made you leave town?" You were becoming anxious.

"My father," he always paused when he said that, as if trying to come to terms with how uncomfortable the word felt in his mouth, "took me to a shopping mall once when I was a kid. I-I thought he was changing for the better, but he left me there. He just abandoned me right in the middle of it."

"That's unspeakable, but how does-" you stop and think for a second. "Wait, the Stockton Shopping Mall just burnt down. Trevor..."

"I-I was so angry," he stresses his words. "I wasn't thinking clearly and it just happened."

"Seven people died and thirteen were injured, Trevor."

"I know." He said.

"I should be so disgusted right now, but I don't know how I feel right now."

"Well, I've done a lot more than that, but that's one of the worst. Like I said, I always want to be authentic with you. I don't ever want to lie to you." He says.

"Tell me everything." 

Trevor went on and on about how he killed animals when he was a kid, how he felt absolutely no remorse about shoving a hockey stick up his hockey coach's ass because he 'had it coming', and about the clarinet player he strangled with a clarinet. He talked about all the moving and all the different boyfriends his mother had when he was a kid that were no better than his own father. He even opened up about being placed in foster care a couple times and doing time in a juvenile corrections center. It became clear to you who Trevor was. He did awful things because he couldn't control his rage, but all he really wanted was to fit in somewhere, feel needed and important, and finally have control over his life. 

"I know this is all a lot to take in and I understand if you don't want to be around me," he says.

You look at him for a few seconds and then grab him by the collar to pull him in for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around you. You looked at him, "I love you, Trevor." 

"I love you too, (your name)." 

You pulled him back in for another kiss and decided to completely ignore the movie and make out underneath the tree during the rest of the movie's duration.


	24. Mrs. Philips: Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all my readers! Thank you guys for supporting this story. It has been really fun working on it! I've been sitting on this decision for a bit: I'm going to switch from a second person point of view to a first person point of view. I think this will clean up the writing for me as a writer and it will be more immersive. I hope all of you see this as an improvement too and sorry I'm just now deciding to switch 20-some chapters in!

I tossed and turned all night, clearly more stressed out about Trevor's mother than he is. That oddly made me angry, but then I remembered that I'm the one that deals with her. Finally, I decide to just get up and grab a midnight snack. Maybe I could get back to sleep if I ate something. So, I quietly leave the bedroom and wander downstair to the kitchen. I open the fridge and look around, realizing I need to pick up groceries. It also feels so eerily lonely to be up at this time. I used to call Ashley when I couldn't sleep because she's up at all hours, but I can't do that anymore...

I grab a pudding cup, and turning around I see Trevor's mother in the doorway. I get a spoon and sit at the dinner table, which was a silent invitation for her to join me. She understands and sits across from me. "So," I start, "what are you doing up at almost three in the morning?"

"I could ask the same of you," she replies. I hold up my pudding cup as an answer. "I heard you get up and though it might be Trevor. Who knows what he would do to me in my sleep."

"Sounds like you have a guilty conscience." You say.

"What?"

"To me, it sounds like you know you treated him badly and are now worried about him getting revenge."

"I did everything I could for that boy, but he turned out rotten. He never did care for his mother," she sighs.

I look at her confusedly. "Look, as his partner, I'm the person that's supposed to protect him now. I shouldn't have to protect him from his own mother, but you literally give me no other choice. You can't stay here, Mrs.Philips. And to be perfectly honest, I don't want you in Trevor's life."

She clutches her chest as if physically hurt by my words. "Where else will I go? I don't got no money or other relatives. Trevor is all I got."

"You should have thought about that a long time ago. You know, you were all he had and you really fucked that up. You can't expect to treat people badly and then get your way every time." I stand to throw away the empty pudding cup and put the spoon in the sink.

"Sometimes, I wonder why my boys turned out the way they did. They never spoke to me to see how I was doing-" she starts.

"Ok, just stop. I'm tired of hearing the same thing out of you all the time when you're the one that put yourself in this situation. And don't you dare talk badly about either one of your sons, so just go back to bed. In the morning, make sure your bags are packed." I could hear her softly start to weep as I went back to bed. If it was anyone else, I'd feel bad.

I crawl back into bed with Trevor, and lay my head on his chest. I can't help but think about what she said. It's amazing to me how one person can be in so much denial and take absolutely no responsibility. Life would be so nice to be that ignorant.

-

Waking up, the bed feels lighter. Trevor is no longer in bed. It's noon! So much could have happened. Quickly, I get out of bed and hurry downstairs. "Trev?!" I call as I search around the ridiculously large house of ours. There was a faint sound of metal banging around in the distance. "T?!" He's not answering. I glance outside, where I find Trevor finally. He has completely wrecked the backyard. "Trevor!" I call with such rage I think I might pass out. "What the hell have you done?! We just bought this house and the beautiful backyard is now in shambles!"

"I'm a little, rgh, pissed off," he says through gritted teeth as he paces around, looking for more things to destroy.

"Oh gee, I had no idea!" I answer sarcastically. "Why?!"

"They can't fucking get her."

"What?" I say surprisingly calm.

"They can't relocate her."

"What?! That's not true! I talked to a guy at the penitentiary yesterday and he said this happens all the time and that it's not a big deal!" 

"Yeah, well the prison is refusing to cover it because of how many times she's been locked up and I'm sure as hell not putting any of our money towards her." He says.

"Where is she?" I ask, but I'm not sure I really want to know.

"She's in the guest room. I told her to stay there or else. I can't be around her. I can't have her in the house, ( your name). What am I going to do?" Trevor takes a seat on a pile of broken wooden planks, which I'm not really sure how they got there.

"We'll figure something out, Trevor. I promise." I take his hand in mine.


	25. Flashback #4

I pushed through the big doors and stormed outside. Trevor exited the doors across the way. I waved at him so he could see me as other students began to file outside. We walked towards each other, fighting through the crowd. He took my hand and we walked to the parking lot. 

"I don't want to do this anymore, Trevor." I said dejectedly.

"Neither do I," he adds as he jumps into the Bodhi and puts the key in the ignition.

"I don't want to live in North Yankton anymore either. Can we please just run off so I don't have to tell my parents I want to quit community college?" I joke.

"You're closer to your parents than I ever was with mine. Why can't you just tell them the truth?" He asks as he drives onto the main road and flicks on the headlights.

"Because it's community college, Trev. They expected me to go to Harvard or something like that. I already disappointed them by going to community college. They'll never forgive me if I quit community college. All my life I thought I'd go to a university and do something great, but now that I'm here I just don't want to do it anymore. It doesn't feel right." I sigh.

"I'm right there with ya, sweet cheeks. I only decided to take those dumb night courses so I could spend more time with you and learn something while I was at it." He scoffed. 

In just about ten or fifteen minutes, we pull up at my house. Trevor parks at the curb to let me get out. "See you tomorrow night, Trev."

"Sure thing, sweet cheeks. I love you."

"I love you too, T." I say as I hop out of the truck and walk up the steps to my house.

-

"Alright, mom, Trevor's outside. I'm headed off to class. See you tomorrow morning," I say as I kiss her on the cheek. "Say goodnight to dad for me when he gets home."

"Will do, honey!" She smiles.

I throw my messenger bag over my shoulder and practically run out the front door. Words couldn't express how excited I am. Trevor and I officially dropped out of school, so now we were free to do whatever we wanted. Today was our first day out of school. He smiles at me as I run to his truck and climb in. He slowly starts off down the street in the direction he used to take us to school. When he reaches the end of the street, he stops. I look back towards my house to make sure my mom stayed inside and my dad hadn't happened to pull in the driveway. Seeing that we were in the clear, I sit back in my seat and smile at Trevor. A crazed grin overtakes his face. He makes a right instead of the left to the school and slams on the gas. Everyone else in this town was at home and probably asleep, so we had the streets to ourselves. When he got to another turn, he slammed on the brakes and drifted into the turn. I switched the radio on, which was always already on Channel X, and turned it all the way up. Trevor looked over at me and smiled. Something about this never failed to turn me on.

"What did you tell them?" He asks.

"I haven't told them yet. She thinks we're going to class!" I laugh.

"You're going to have to tell them eventually," he looks at me with concern, even though he was the one driving over one hundred miles per hour.

"I know, but I don't want to think about that right now, Trev! I'm having too much fun!" 

"Ok, well, I am but your humble chauffeur, milady," he says in a horrible attempt of a British accent, "Where shall I take thee?"

I think for a second. I hadn't really thought about all the possibilities. "Take me to your place."

"What?" He looks at me like I have ten heads.

"I want to go to your place," I smile at him daringly.

I knew he couldn't resist that look. "Why? It's a total dump. It's not somewhere I want you to spend a lot of time. There are so many better places to go."

"Trevor!" I yell. "I said, take me to your place."

"Ok, ok! Jesus!" 

After driving on empty small town roads, Trevor turns off onto a dirt road. In the night, it doesn't look like anything is around. He follows the dirt road for about five minutes and then parks in from of a trailer. He had left the light on outside, so I could see all the dirt smudges and stains all over the trailer. We both got out of the truck and walked up to his doorstep. I could tell he wasn't proud because I was seeing it. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't care who saw this place. I followed him inside and he closed the door behind us. I turned the latch so that it locked. He was still looking at me with confusion.

"I still don't know why you wanted to come here," he sighed. 

"We've been dating for three months, Trevor," I started.

"I know," he said. I move slowly towards him and wrap my arms around his waist.

"You've never made a move," I say as I remove my jacket. I kiss him passionately. 

Behind him, I spot the bedroom and lead him there by the hand. "Sit," I command. He sits on the edge of the bed. I straddle his lap and continue to kiss him, practically losing my breath. His hands settle around my hips. I can feel him harden do to the fact I'm wearing a skirt. He keeps his hands on my hips, but pulls away looking uncomfortable.

"What is it, Trevor?" I whisper.

"I-" he hesitates, "I don't think I can do this."

"Why not?" I say in a normal tone, obviously annoyed and impatient. He doesn't answer. "You clearly want to," I say motioning to his crotch, "so what's the hold-up?"

"It's just not right."

"Neither one of us is drunk, Trevor. It's fine." I roll my eyes.

"(Your name), it just isn't right. You deserve more than this shitty trailer."

I sit beside him on the bed. "I don't care about this trailer. I want you, Trevor!" 

"I know! You think I don't want to, sweetheart?!" He yells, pointing at himself. "It drives me insane to see you all ready to go!"

"Then just do it! There's literally nothing holding you back! I threw myself at you practically and you said no!" I yell back at him. "The only one you should be mad at is yourself! You're the one who didn't take the opportunity!" 

"I'm trying to tell y-"

I cut him off, "You know what, just take me home."

"What?!" He jolts up from the bed and begins to pace. He looks as if he's looking for something. He goes into the main room and grabs a beer out of the fridge. He knocks the cap off with the edge of the counter and takes an angry swig. "Fuck!" He throws the bottle. It breaks against the wall and I watch the amber liquid drips down the wall. The smell of beer fills the air. "Fine, get in the car. I'll take you home."


	26. Bad News

This morning I woke up to Trevor snoring beside me. That was nice for a change. However, I hate that part of waking up where reality starts coming back. For instance, I remember that Trevor's bitch of a mother is in our guest room and that the backyard is still in shambles from his outburst yesterday. Then, I suddenly become aware of the ringing in the room. It was my cell phone. Quickly, I roll over and see that it's four in the morning. I grab my phone off the nightstand and answer it without looking at the number.

"Hello?" I answer groggily.

"Hello, is this miss (your first and last name)?" A man's voice asks from the other end.

"Yes," I sit up on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry to call you at this hour, ma'am. I'm Harry Townshend with Townshend & Sons Funeral Home in Los Santos. Miss Ashley Butler has passed away and you are the only contact listed in her emergency contacts."

"Hold on a minute," I say as I feel a lump form in my throat. I get up and go downstairs so I don't wake anyone. "You said that Ashley Butler passed away?" I repeated in disbelief.

"Yes, ma'am."

"I don't understand. How?" I ask.

"Legally, I can't discuss it until the police get in contact with you. They have a few questions. However, she was a smart girl and had a will already in place. She left just about everything to you."

"I see." I choke up. "I guess I'll try to come in later today." I hang up the phone, unable to talk any further. I slam my phone down on the dinner table and sink into a chair. I can't hold anything back anymore and before I know it, I'm sobbing uncontrollably. I don't even care about being quiet anymore. My best friend in the world is dead. I've lost two people that are very close to me in the past month. I can't handle anymore. Anger overwhelms me as I remember it was Trevor who killed Johnny. If he was able to just keep his fucking cool both Johnny and Ashley would probably still be here.

I hear a laugh behind me. I whip around and see Trevor's mother snickering with a hand over her mouth to conceal her smile. "I'm sorry," she says insincerely. "You must be going through a hard time, but it always makes me feel better when someone else is doing the crying."

"What do you want?" I grumble, trying to quit crying in front of her. 

"Oh, nothing. I've just never seen you so weak. I had to take the opportunity to see it," she says as she sits across from me. "I do admire the strength you show, but I always knew you were just like my boys. They were both so weak, but didn't bother to hide it." 

"Your boys are not weak," I say through gritted teeth. I'm not in the mood to deal with this abuse right now. She's treading on thin ice. "Trevor is the bravest person I know! Sometimes I don't think I'd be so strong if it weren't for him!" I yell. "And don't even get me started on Ryan. You know damn well what the truth is."

"Oh god," she laughs, "I didn't know you were so stupid too!"

I lunge across the table and hit her. She falls onto the floor and wails in pain. "You're the only one who has ever been stupid and weak! Don't you see that?!" I grab onto her throat and make her look at me. I don't realize how tight I'm gripping her. "You were always so insecure you had to bring down everyone around you just so you could feel better about yourself! Just come to terms with the fact that the only thing you did right in your life was having Trevor and Ryan and the only thing you were ever meant to be is a disgusting, diseased hooker!"

There. I had gotten my anger out. I let go of her and realize she's blue and isn't moving. Fuck. Fuck! I think I just killed Trevor's mother. I start shaking uncontrollably. I was always the level-headed one, but I have lost my temper just like Trevor would. Then, I remember Ashley. I start crying again and I'm still shaking. I grab my phone off the table.

"Mikey!" I practically scream into the phone. I didn't know who else to call. "Please, please, please, come here! Come quick!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down, kid. What's wrong? Why're you crying?" He says calmly.

His demeanor makes me calm down slightly. "I killed Trevor's mother. I don't know what the fuck to do!" 

I hear Michael laugh on the other end. "Ah man, you two never cease to amaze me. Alright, so what's the problem?"

"I don't know what to do with the body. I don't want Trevor to know. I want to hide the body and just tell him she ran off again. Mikey, just please come over."

"Already ahead of you. I'm in the car and I'll be there in ten minutes. Find a tarp or a rug and roll her onto it. If there's any blood, pour bleach over it and scrub until it comes up." He still is so calm about the whole situation.

"Ok, ok, I can do that." I take a deep breath. "Just get here quick."

"I'm going as fast as I can, (your name). I'll see you soon."

"Ok, thank you, Mikey," I hang up the phone and run around the house looking for a rug. Those assholes with the realtor still haven't delivered most of our shit. Then, I remember Trevor actually does have some plastic tarps in the garage. He put them over the truck when it rained in Sandy Shores. Even though we had a garage, he hardly ever used it.

Just like he said, almost ten minutes pass and Michael pulls into the driveway. I paced in front of the front windows waiting for when he would arrive. I run out of the front door to Michael. I wrap my arms around him in a hug and he hugs back. "What the hell happened to you?"

"I've been through a lot this month," I say, "Thank you for coming."

"What are friends for?" He shrugs. "So where is she?"

"She's in the kitchen." I lead Michael into the house and to the kitchen. 

"Ok, we're going to have to roll her up in the tarp. We can both carry her. We'll put her in the back of my car and I'll dump her off the boat. You get that end." Michael points to the opposite end of the tarp from where he's standing. He folds his end over Trevor's mother and proceeds to roll her over, which causes the entire tarp to roll in on itself. Like a human fruit roll up; that idea almost makes me laugh, but I hold it in as to not look completely insane. Michael goes to grab the end with her head and I go to help lift her feet.

"What in the good lord's name are you two doing?" Trevor says in a groggy, sleepy voice. He looked confused and scratched his stomach.

Michael and I drop the body and jolt upright. Trevor scared both of us. "Hey, man," Michael says guiltily. "We can explain, T."

"Is that ma?" Trevor squints at the body.

"Yes." I blurt. Michael looks at me and mouths 'the fuck?'

"Hmph, cool," Trevor steps over the body and goes to start the coffee machine.

"Get her feet," Michael whispers to me. 

We both lift her up and carry her out to Michael's car. Luckily we have those huge concrete wall fences around our house. Michael and I stop at the trunk of his car. We lower her to the ground so that he can unlock the trunk. Then, we lift her back up and heave her into the trunk. Michael slams it closed and locks it back up. We high-five and I give him another hug.

"Thank you, Michael. I know this probably isn't the way you saw this morning going, but you really helped me out. I really didn't know what else to do."

"Don't mention it. You wouldn't believe the adrenaline rush I got when you called." He laughed. "I guess I owed you at least that after everything you guys went through in Ludendorff."

"I wouldn't change any of it, Michael" I smile.

As he gets into the car he says to me, "Don't hesitate to call should another body come into play."

I watch him close the car door and then leave Trevor and my driveway. That reminds me, I have to go back in and talk to Trevor. He is sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, looking at his phone. He seems so unaware and unaffected. "Trev?" I say quietly as I enter the room.

"Yeah, crazy cakes?" He says, not shifting his gaze from his phone until he says, "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

I sit across from him at the table. "Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad? That woman ruined my life. You did me a solid!" 

I look at him confused, "What?"

"Look, I could never do that myself. I'd feel so much guilt. So, thank you."

"No problem," I say, still confused.

"So, to what do I owe such a gracious act?" He asks.

"I got a call this morning. Ashley's dead."

Trevor looks at me while he sips his coffee. "How?"

"They wouldn't tell me. I'm going to the funeral home and the police station today to sort everything out. We might be going back to Sandy Shores to sort out all her stuff. Apparently she had a will and left me everything." I inform him.

"Great. Just when you think you're rid of that place you're right where you started." He sighed.

"Tell me about it," I rolled my eyes. I just dodged the biggest bullet of my life with Trevor. Holy shit.


	27. Flashback #5

As I finish making myself a sandwich for lunch, Trevor rushes in the kitchen. "You didn't tell me you were stopping by?" I say. He grabs me by the waist, slams me against him, and kisses me passionately. I nearly drop the butter knife laden with peanut butter in my hand. "Well, hello to you too!" I say as I start to blush.

"I'm sorry for last night. I'll make up for it eventually; I promise." he whispers in my ear.

"Oh, Trev, I'm not even mad about it. We should've discussed it more beforehand. I have something to tell you though."

"Oh yeah?"

"I told my parents I dropped out after you took me home last night. They were surprisingly ok with it. My parents are just worried about how I'll make a living now." I sighed.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll take care of you. In fact, I also had something I wanted to talk to you about." Trevor says as he takes me by the hand and leads me over to the dinner table. We sit down together and he looks a little uncertain.

"Are you ok? What is it, Trevor?" I ask, genuinely concerned.

"I'm going back to Canada soon to join the Air Force." 

"What?!" I exclaim.

"That conversation we had a few weeks ago really said something to me. I've always wanted to fly planes and you gave me the confidence to finally do it." He smiled innocently.

"I'm glad, but you didn't think about discussing this with me first? We're going to be apart for a long time, Trevor!"

"I know, but this is something I really want and I want to be a better person for you."

"Trevor, I don't want you to change. I love you the way you are. You don't need to be a better man for me." I reassure him. "I thought you said you were going to make it up to me for last night?! This doesn't make anything better!"

"You said you weren't even mad about it?!"

"Of course I'm mad about it!"

"God women are so confusing!"

"Amen to that, Trevor," my dad says as he walks into the kitchen. "Is everything ok in here? I couldn't help but hear the yelling."

"Yes, dad, everything is fine. Trevor just told me that he's joining the Canadian Air Force." I say in an annoyed tone.

"Congratulations!" Dad gives Trevor a quick hug.

"Thank you, sir. I'm trying to tell your daughter what a good thing this will be."

"I'll talk to her," dad whispers to him. 

-

I had realized tonight how much I've changed. My parents don't know me that well anymore and Trevor knows absolutely everything about the real me. It became evident that I was absolutely nothing like my parents and I didn't want the cookie cutter life they had pre-planned for me. I didn't want to attend an Ivy League school and live my life in pant suits. I didn't want the typical suburban life that screamed Stepford Wives to me. I also never wanted to be the military girlfriend that sits around waiting for him to come home from the war and I knew Trevor wasn't that kind of guy, so why did he want this so badly?

I went into my room after telling my parents I was "going to bed". I locked the door and promptly flicked on the radio to channel X and put it on full volume. I could never explain this to someone who doesn't understand, but something about listening to your favorite kind of music very loudly is cathartic. I stripped off my annoying ass jeans and tossed them at the hamper. Then, I dug under my bed for the box of cigarettes that not even Trevor knew about. Even when I was pretending to be a goody two shoes for my parents, I'd smoke when the stress got too much. Did it help? Absolutely not, but it was still better than sitting around and thinking too much. I cracked open my window and sat on the ledge, not giving one single fuck if the neighbors could see me smoking in the window in a baggy sweater and my underwear.

God, the whole neighborhood would have a cow if they saw the (your last name)'s daughter half naked and smoking. Everyone knew how clean cut my parents are. They'd think that I was going through a phase, going insane, or that I let Trevor influence me. Fuck that, I say to all of it. Even Trevor looked me in the eyes and said, "You've changed. I'm pretty sure it's for the better. It's just that you're stronger in a scary way. Like you've been through some shit that no one knows about." How right he is.


	28. The Station

"Is this Ashley Butler?" The coroner pulls back the sheet to reveal Ashley laying there on the metal table. The only lively thing about her is her red hair. The rest of her was ashen gray and you could see her veins all over her body. I knew this was drug related.

"Yes, that's her." I answered.

I walked out of the big metal doors and wS escorted to a private room by another police officer. We sat at a table together and he had numerous papers in hand. "We found her in a hotel along with a couple other men. They all died to an apparent drug overdose."

"I assumed as much. She's always had difficulties with addiction and she recently lost someone very close to her, so she kind of fell off the bandwagon."

"Yes, well, to my knowledge the funeral home has already been in contact with you. She requested that you have a copy of her will as the executor to her estate. Now that you have identified the body, you can take the will and arrange things with the funeral home. Thank you for coming in today, miss (your last name). I'm sorry for your loss." The cop says half-assed and leaves the room. 

I slip the copy of her will into my bag and get back into Trevor's truck that I borrowed for the day. I quickly typed the address to the funeral home into my phone and drove there. I feel honored that Ashley trusted me to take care of all of this, but it's honestly stressful. I keep having the thought that she knew something like this would happen. Why else would she have legally taken care of everything?

-

As I get back home, Michael texts me: "Mission accomplished" and I know exactly what he means. Trevor's mother was now somewhere at the bottom of Paleto Bay. I text him back a quick thank you. Trevor greets me as I lock up the truck.

He gives me a hug, "How was it?"

"Emotionally draining." I say as I hug him back.

"I'm sorry this is all happening in a short amount of time. I cleaned up the backyard while you were gone. I didn't really know what to do to cheer you up when you got back."

"It's ok. Just being with you and not thinking about everything will do just fine. How are Wade and Floyd? Have you heard from them in a while?"

"No, not really. Come to think of it, I haven't heard from anyone in a while. Can't say I'm complaining though."

I laugh at Trevor's statement. "I want to go on a vacation. Just you and me, and I don't want to tell anyone. I want to just forget about all of this and just have a relaxing time away from all this shit." 

"Sounds good to me," Trevor adds.


	29. Flashback #6

Trevor slid a strawberry milkshake across the table to me. I smiled at him, but it quickly faded. He did the same and scratched his head, not knowing quite what to say. I didn't want him to say anything. I wanted time to stand still. He's leaving tomorrow and who knows for how long. I'm still so infuriated with him that he chose to leave. What good will it do to start a relationship and then leave for probably a few years after four months? He's crazy. That has to be it.

"I promise to write to you whenever I can," he says, trying to reassure me. I didn't answer. "I'll visit whenever I come home. Look, I don't know what to say. I've never been in this situation before and you know I'm not good at saying things to make others feel better. Cut me some slack."

"I know you, Trevor Philips. You're going to go off to wherever the hell and have a grand old time, forgetting all about me. You're using one hell of an excuse to leave me in fucking North Yankton!" I start to tear up and Trevor looks around anxiously as other people in the diner start to look. "I'm not in school anymore! You won't let me work because you said you'd take care of me! You're leaving me here alone!"

"(Your name), I already told you I'm doing this to make a better life for us. I'm doing this for our future." He says through gritted teeth.

"Ok," I exhale in annoyance, "let me put it in terms that you can understand. You didn't discuss this with me before you made the decision. I know in the end it's your decision and your life, but you didn't even think to include me. Also, I don't think ANYONE," I yell the last word, "gets that I don't want a secure future. That is the most depressing life I can possibly comprehend. I like living by the second and I thought I finally found a guy that understood that. I loved that about you. God, Trevor," I laugh," we've never fought this much. Maybe we're not as compatible as I thought we were." I slide out of the booth. I grab my jacket and go to leave. Before I can, Trevor grabs my wrist.

"Clearly, you don't know me, cupcake. I'm a man of my word. Let me ask you one question," he says as he gets out of the booth and stands with his face a few inches from mine. "Have I ever let you down or broken a promise to you?"

I wipe a tear from my cheek. "No," I answer sheepishly.

Taking both my hands in his, he says, "I'm going to get us out of this disappointing afterthought of a town."

 

-A few months later-

 

"(Your name), a letter came for you. I think it's from Trevor." My mother says, handing me an envelope with only my name and address on it.

I practically rip it open. He hadn't sent me anything in nearly two weeks. I've been worried sick. I begin to read: Dear (Your name), You're not going to believe the last few weeks I've had. I don't want to discuss it too much in a letter since I'm coming home to you. Yeah, that's right, I'm coming back home. We can discuss what to do next when we come to that bridge. Anyway, I love you and I miss you. Sorry for not writing for a few weeks. Love, Trevor." My heart is pounding. What an asshole! That didn't make me worry any less!

A few days later a knock came on the door. I peeked through the curtains apprehensively and I saw the red truck parked at the curb. I practically fell trying to run back to the door and unlock it quickly. Trevor stood there, in his uniform and holding flowers. He smiled and tried to say something, but I jumped into his arms and planted an aggressive but passionate kiss on his lips. He put me down and presented the flowers to me. 

"They're beautiful, Trevor." I take his hand and lead him inside.

"You're beautiful, beautiful," he says jokingly. I roll my eyes at him.

"Where are the 'rents?"

"They are actually staying with some friends for the weekend. None of us were expecting you here for at least another week."

"Yeah, well, my whole situation was kind of expedited." He sighs.

"So tell me what happened," I say as we go into the kitchen. I scour the cabinets for a vase for the flowers.

"I'm grounded for life." He blurts out.

"WHAT?! How? Why?" I exclaim.

"After training, we have to have a psychological evaluation. The bitch in charge of them said I was too psychotic or whatever."

"Oh my god. Are you ok?I mean, we probably should've expected something like this, but I know how much you liked flying."

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm not too worried about the not being able to fly thing." He smirked.

"Oh yeah? To what do I owe that?" I laughed.

"How do you think I got here?"

"What do you m-Trevor! You did not steal a plane!"

"Oh yes Trevor did steal a plane!" He yelled happily.

"So the cops are going to surround my house any second?" I joke.

"Nah, you'll be fine. I roughed up a guy at the hangers. I'm keeping it there. I actually think we're going to be ok. I ran into a shady guy down there who said he'd keep his mouth shut if I ran some things for him over the border."

"Can I help?"

"You want to help me illegally move things over the border?"

"Trevor, I've been dying for some excitement. Plus, I want you to fly me around in the plane. It sounds fun and I want to see what you learned!" I say giddily.

"Ok, ok, sure. I don't see why not." He smiles.

"Oh, I have a present for you!" I run out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room. He follows.

"Well I like where this is headed!" He says as he leans against the doorway and puts a hand at the top of the other side.

"Very funny," I roll my eyes at him as I dig a box out from underneath my bed. I put it on the bed and sit next to it. He comes in and joins me on the bed, opening the box. He pulls out a denim jacket lined with white faux fur. I wanted to get something for him after he finished training to celebrate, and it was the only thing I could find around town that looked like pilot-y and like something Trevor would wear.

"I love it!" He said as he threw it on over his uniform. "It's actually kind of perfect for flying. I'll need it." It made me smile to make him happy. I know I had been angry at him for joining the Air Force, but I think this told him that I too support him. "Thank you, (your name)," he said with a wide grin he probably wasn't even aware he was making. 

I couldn't help myself. I leaned over the bed and kissed him. He looked at me and blushed, something I don't think I've ever seen him do. He kissed me this time and placed a hand on my cheek. When we pulled away from each other, I looked up into his eyes innocently. He stood up, but had both hands on either side of me on the bed. I reached to take the jacket off of him and he unbuttoned his shirt. He stood there before me in his typical white t-shirt, unbuckling his belt and I pulled off my own jeans. Trying to be shy and sexy, I pulled the covers back and got underneath. Then, I took my sweater off as he pulled off his t-shirt. He joined me in bed and proceeded to kiss me like we were never going to again. At some point, he had managed to get on top of me with an arm on either side of my head.

That was the first time I had ever felt that safe. I reached a hand behind my back and unsnapped my bra and threw it to the side. Trevor just stared down like he had never seen those before. I wiggled my underwear off as best as I could. With him on top, I didn't have a lot of room. Then I slipped his boxers down. He helped take them off and threw them somewhere to the side, just as I had done. He continued to kiss me and pull me down on the bed slightly so I was better aligned with him. He went in for another kiss, but I put a hand on his chest.

Sensing my impatience, he reaches a hand down to guide himself in. "Sorry, cupcake," he whispered and I felt his breath against my neck. "It's my first time," he said as he shoved himself all the way inside me. I gasped, wrapped my legs around him, and dug my nails into his back. Once I relaxed after a few seconds of the pain subsiding, I whispered into his ear, "Mine too."


	30. Another Road Trip

A pit formed in my stomach as we parked in front of the all too familiar trailer. I just wanted to be rid of this place, but it keeps calling us back. Although it is where Trevor and I rebuilt our lives together, there is nothing left for me and him here. All my friends are dead and Ron and Chef are more than capable of running the business. Speaking of Ron, he nearly tripped down the front steps of the trailer to come and greet Trevor and I. I did miss his joyfulness sometimes. 

"T! (Your name)! I'm so glad you two came back!" He said with excitement.

"Again, Ron, we're only visiting. A few exceptional cases have risen that we need to take care of." I inform him.

He looks worried. "The business is fine so what's wrong?"

"Ashley kicked the bucket and is making (your name) clean up the mess," Trevor said grumpily.

"She left me as the executor to her estate," I explain. "I have to sort out all her stuff."

"She was so young. Why was she worried about all of that?" Asked Ron.

"I think she always knew she was going to die young, so went ahead and made a will. I know she said she would exclude her parents from hers if she made one. She once told me that her mom and dad excluded her from theirs when she fell back into drugs. She always said if they had given her some of her inheritance when her dad died, she could've afforded a better rehab institution and lived somewhere better."

"I guess it's smart to be prepared," Ron added nervously.

"I'm going to go ahead and go to her house, guys. I'll meet everyone back here for dinner around five." I said.

"Ok,"Trevor said as he went up the steps with Ron. "Be careful."

-

Everyone in the biker camp looked over as I pulled up in Trevor's truck. They knew who's truck it was and I swear they all grew stiff. I hopped out and slammed the door, fishing Ashley's will hurt of my bag. "What are you all looking at?" I say as I walk up to her trailer and unlock the door. I could hear hushed whispers behind me. I really didn't care what they had to say. They all knew what would happen if they over-stepped their boundaries. There wasn't much left of them anyway. The Sandy Shores chapter had been struggling ever since Johnny tried to start them up here.

The door swung open and the stagnant air blew a musty smell into my face. She hadn't been here in a long time. A light coat of dust covered almost everything. It was relatively nice looking because she usually just stayed with Johnny except when they were fighting or she needed to hide from him when she did meth. She definitely didn't live here. It was an escape for her. This was a place where she could have fun and forget about everything outside the door. 

She'd invite me over for a girl day pretty frequently and we would come here. That couch is where we would sit and talk shit about Johnny and Trevor. No one else could understand what it was like to be with those kinds of men. She'd light up a cigarette and bitch about how Johnny would never fuck her in the ass when she asked. I always laughed uncontrollably when she went off on that tangent because of all the funny excuses Johnny had given her, which in turn would make her laugh too. I'd tell her how insane Trevor had been lately. I'd tell her about how we would walk down the street and he'd manage to get himself into a rampage because someone would point out his accent. She'd always get silent then and say something like, "I guess there are bigger problems out there than not getting anal."

She never liked Trevor and wanted me to leave him. Sometimes this would cause problems in our friendship. She was convinced that one day he was going to snap and kill me. I weighed that possibility when we were first dating, but I had known him long enough to understand his reasoning and thought process. I don't know why I never felt comfortable telling Ashley the truth about Trevor. Maybe it was because I knew she wouldn't believe me and wouldn't understand. The truth is that I was the only constant in his life. I was the only one that hadn't treated him like he was nothing or abandoned him. I was the only one that knew every little thing about him and still loved him through and through. And he felt the same. When Trevor cares for someone, he will do literally anything for them. 

 

It became clear to me that I needed to go into Johnny's trailer too. Most of Ashley's things were over there and his place could probably use a little straightening up. I went back outside and everyone stiffened up again and proceeded to watch me. Cool, I'm the show stopper. I walk down the dirt trail to Johnny's trailer. Out of my peripherals, I can tell all the bikers are growing uneasy. I flip through the keys on my key ring until I find the dingy one that goes to Johnny's trailer. 

"What do you think you're doing?" A big, burly biker growls.

"Business. Gotta problem?" I snap at him.

"That's the boss's trailer. You shouldn't disrespect The Lost MC like that." He said as he cracked his knuckles.

"Even Johnny secretly wanted the chapter to dissolve into nothing and for your information I was Johnny's best friend. Who the fuck are you?" I ask rhetorically as I unlock Johnny's door. 

"Hey!" The biker calls out to me. "Did you not hear what I said? You're not going' in Johnny K's trailer!"

I whip around, "You're the only one causing a problem right now. Why don't you go back to shining your piece of shit bike and leave me alone."

"Can you believe this broad?!" He says to another biker who ignores the question and pleads with him to back off me. The other biker knows who I am and its obvious that the guy giving me all these issues is new and from Liberty City. "You're not getting' in there."

"Who says?" I say as I stand toe-to-toe with him. He quickly raises his hand, but I grab his arm. "I wouldn't do that if you like where your testicles are currently located, if you have any left." The other biker comes up and leads the other one away. 

"Just let her be, man. Her, Ashley, and Johnny were good friends. Her man's fucking psycho, so just let it go." I hear him say to the burly guy.

Johnny's trailer smells like rotting trash. That's probably due to the dishes in the sink with flies crawling all over them, the actual rotting food in the fridge, and the lack of ventilation. And that guy was trying to lecture me about respect. Letting someone's place sit filthy isn't respect. He didn't even meet Johnny. I started with shoveling all the food in the fridge in trash bags. I decided to just throw whatever was in the sink away too. Johnny and Ashley are gone, so they won't need dinnerware anymore. I opened a few windows and put everything I could find of theirs, which wasn't much, into suitcases and other bags I could find. I put that all in the back of Trevor's truck and dropped the trash off at the dump on the way back to Trevor's old trailer. 

When I got there, I but all the suitcases and bags into the garage and parked the truck out front. Trevor came outside. He slowly walked up to me with his hands shoved into his pockets. "Hey, crazy cakes, how was it?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around me.

"It was kind of a trip down memory lane. By the way, they have a new guy from Liberty City that tried to get smart with me." I told him as I hugged him and laid my head against his chest.

"Do I need to have a word with him?"

"I'm getting tired of these rampages, but I think we should wipe out what's left of them." I say plainly.

"Can't say I don't agree."

"There's no point to it without Johnny. The Lost is, well, lost." I hold in a laugh.

"Tomorrow then, and then we'll go on our murderless vacation."


	31. Destruct and Reconstruct

The drive to the camp was silent. As much as Trevor didn't like The Lost, he knew that Johnny was my friend and what this meant to me. He could sense that I didn't want to talk about it because it needed to be done. I wanted to detach from this as much as I could. He parked the car near the small mountain of dirt on the other side of the road and helped me load the furniture that I wanted of Ashley's and Johnny's. Right before we were about to leave, Trevor had managed to bring some left over sticky bombs and quietly placed them on the back of every trailer while I finished loading up the furniture.

We both got in the car and he detonated the bombs. I could feel the heat of the explosion from where we were sitting. We put our hands up to block from possible projectiles. Trevor pulled out the sniper rifle from behind our seats and picked off the rest of the bikers that somehow managed to survive. It smelled absolutely awful. A tear rolled down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away, hoping that Trevor didn't see it.I couldn't rationalize in my mind if Johnny would have wanted this or not. 

Trevor drove us back to our trailer. He parked and turned the car off, then looked at me who hadn't moved a muscle. He pursed his lips, knowing that I was hurting. There was no place left for me to go back and remember Johnny and Ashley. Trevor leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and told me, "I'll let you have a minute alone. I'll be inside if you need me." He got out of the truck and went inside. When the door closed, I got out of the truck and went into the garage. I closed it and then sunk to the ground. I unzipped my jacket, where I was hiding Johnny's jacket. When I crossed my arms, I managed to conceal it. I immediately started crying. I ran my hand over the embroidered name patch and then clutched the jacket like I was hugging Johnny himself. 

I'd never go on a motorcycle ride with him again. That was one of the best things to do in Sandy Shores. He'd let me use a spare bike of his and we'd ride around the town. It's the best place for it because most of the roads are long and straight. The peace between Trevor and the Lost was gone with Johnny. He was the only one level-headed enough to be open-minded about being acquaintances. We'd never hang out at the Yellow Jack Inn again. In fact, since Johnny died the last few times I've been to Sandy Shores, I thought it'd be my last. So much has changed because he and Ashley are gone. 

I sit in the garage, surrounded by their belonging until I calm down. I stuffed Johnny's jacket into a plastic bag and try to think of a way to explain to Trevor why I have it. I go inside and join Trevor and Ron. They were sitting on the couch and making small talk. They both stopped talking and looked at me. Looking over at the time on the stove, I realize I was out there for about an hour. I wonder if they heard me. 

"So, I was thinking that if you're up to it we could load all the stuff you took from the camp, drop it at the house in L.S. and then go somewhere nice and quiet for a while." Trevor suggested.

"That's probably a good idea considering what we just did." I say.

"I'll go start loading the truck."

-

We spent the night at our house and in the morning we packed some things of ours and threw it in the truck. We decided to go to northern Chumash. The beach houses out there were high end and the quiet Tongva Valley wasn't too far away. Trevor and I loved getting a beach house right along the shore and just relaxing all day. 

"God, I love this place." I took a deep breath in. It was the evening and there was a cool breeze rolling off the sea. 

"I know. It's one of my favorite places to visit." Trevor said as he grabbed the luggage and walked inside with me.

"Me too." I added. 

"You hungry?" He asked.

"Yeah. What do you feel like tonight?" 

"I have something planned, but you have to stay here." Trevor looked at me with excitement.

"Huh? You don't cook." I said with confusion.

"I know, I know. I ordered something. It was delivered about ten minutes before we got here."

"What? I didn't notice anything."

"Good, because it's a surprise!" He ran out of the bedroom and went back downstairs. 

I flicked on the tv and laid in bed until he came and got me for dinner. He reached in the closet and pulled out a clothing bag and told me to put it on. I unzipped it and there was one of the most beautiful dresses I have ever seen. I don't even want to know how he got it. While I changed, he came out of the bathroom in a suit.

"Trevor, what the hell is going on?" I asked.

"We really don't take vacations that much where we can relax, so I want to make this one special." He smiled and took my hand, leading me downstairs.

On the dining room table there were candles and the table was set like a designer did it. The meal we had on our first date, which was nothing fancy, was on the table. We sat down together and I swear I had never seen Trevor this happy. It freaked me out in a good way. "This is amazing, Trev. Thank you," I smiled at him. We barely spoke during dinner because we both continuously shoveled food into our mouths. Afterwards, we sat and talked a little.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he says.

"You look absolutely handsome," I reply, "It's not everyday Trevor Philips wears a nice suit, so I'm really enjoying this!"

"Any chance you want to take a walk on the beach?" He asks.

"That sounds great! A nice nighttime walk on the beach. I'll go get changed even though I do not want to part with this dress." I joke.

"Then don't" Trevor smiles.

I smile back, "Ok, I won't."

We walk out onto the back deck and go down the steps onto the beach. We walk hand-in-hand until we find a spot we like, and then we sit down. "I gotta say, this is one of the most relaxing times we've had in years. I really needed this, T."

"I know. I'm sorry that things get so crazy that it feels like we don't have time to do things like this." He says. "I want that to change because you're my favorite person to spend time with. I know what you're thinking: we spend nearly every minute together. Yeah, we do, but usually we're not alone or we're working on something. I want to spend more time with you doing nothing."

"Trevor, I told you a long time ago that I wanted this insane life. I didn't want to have every second of my life planned, and you gave me that. You have given me an exciting, wonderful life. I wouldn't trade any of it. Even the bad times."

"Me either and you're the only one I'd want to go through any of it with. I have to admit, I'm the luckiest man alive." He says as he turns to me. "(Your name)?"

"Yeah?" I answer.

"Will you marry me?" Trevor presents me with a simple silver ring with an oval diamond.

I'm so shocked that I'm speechless for a brief second. "Yes, Trevor!" He puts the ring on my left hand and I kiss him. "But I thought you didn't want to get married."

"I overheard you and Amanda talking when Michael and I came home that one night. I felt so stupid. We had discussed it a long time ago, but when the heist went wrong in North Yankton it got pushed aside and I never really thought about it again. There were just so many other things that I felt like I needed to worry about and I'm sorry for that. But when I heard you talking to Amanda, it made me realize that this is something we've wanted for most of our lives and it makes no sense for you not to be a Philips after this long."

"Well, what do we do about the actual wedding? I don't want a big one. I'm not that kind of girl."

"Michael and Amanda are not going to let us not have one. They're the ones that helped with all of this," Trevor motioned to the beach house, referring to the luxurious meal we had.

I laughed. "I knew it!"

Trevor laughed too, "You mean you don't think I can pick out a suit and set up a nice meal?"

"I know you can't, T." We both laughed at that.

"Well, you'd be correct!" He stood up and then helped me up.

We went back to the beach house and went straight to bed, and made love all night long. I always think that when I am extremely happy that it can't get better for me. After all, I'm not a good person. I've hurt and killed too many people to count. I don't deserve any kind of happiness, but Trevor makes me feel like I do. And he never ceases to make me happier than I ever thought possible.


	32. Flashback #7

I woke up and saw the sun lighting up my room. Then, I heard Trevor snoring beside me and remembered we had fallen asleep after last night. Fuck! My parents said they were coming home from their trip today. I quickly got out of bed, trying not to disturb Trev. I got dressed and went downstairs. I peeked out the front window and saw dad's car. Fuck, fuck, fuck! 

"Morning, honey!" I whipped around, almost falling down from my dad startling me.

"Uh, good morning, dad!" I smiled awkwardly.

"Mom and I saw Trevor's truck outside. We didn't know he was done with deployment. Where is he? I'd like to congratulate him."

"Um, he's upstairs. He called me last night saying he was coming home. He came over early this morning to help me, uh, move the furniture in my room around. I'll go get him." I nervously ran back up the stairs and into my room. Closing the door, I mumble, "shit!" over and over. I try to gather all of Trevor's clothes up as quickly as I can and throw them on the bed. I climb onto the bed frantically and crawl over to Trevor. I kiss him. He slowly wakes up. He smiles up at me and kisses me again. "Hey, um, my parents are home and I need you to help me move my desk to the other wall and help me move the bed centered under the window."

"What?" He said groggily.

"Please. My dad wants to talk to you. My parents think you came over early this morning to help me move my bedroom furniture."

"Ok, ok. Calm down. Everything is going to be fine. You always get so tense when it comes to your parents." He gets up slowly and puts his clothes on.

I can't help but stare at him, but I gave him a 'what the fuck is that supposed to mean' look. "My parents don't know who I am anymore, Trevor. I'm not about to tell them now."

He puts on his uniform again and slides the jacket on, which makes me smile. He immediately pushes my desk to the opposite wall, and I actually like it a lot more over there. It makes my room more spacious. Then, he scoots the bed slightly to the right, making it perfectly center with the window above it. Everything looks like it's supposed to for once. 

"There. Anything else, beautiful?" He kisses my cheek and puts an arm around me.

"No, it looks really good. Thank you." I say to him. We both go downstairs where my mom and dad are sitting and talking in the living room when they spot me and Trevor.

"There he is! Mr. War Hero!" My dad stands and offers a hand to Trevor. Trevor takes it and dad pulls him into a hug. Trevor looks extremely uncomfortable because my dad thinks he was in battle.

"Congratulations, Trevor! You look very handsome in your uniform," mom says as she sips her coffee.

"Uh, thanks." Trevor resists the urge to tell the truth. I feel a knot form in my chest and I feel like I'm not even there. I'm just watching everything happen in front of me. I run back upstairs and dig all of my suitcases out of my closet. 

I cram every clothing item I have into the larger ones and everything else, which sadly isn't much, into the others. I take them all downstairs and walk right by my mom, dad, and Trevor. I take them outside and throw them into the back of Trevor's truck. I could feel myself growing angrier and angrier. I barged back in and my mom asked, "Are you two going on a trip of your own? We'll have to talk about that. You've never left town with," she whispers to me, "a boy." like I'm 15.

"Ah, hon. Trevor's a good guy and they've been together for a while now." Dad always had my back more than my mother. Trevor just stood there, looking confused. The look on his face said: What are you doing?! I gave him a look back and he clearly understood because he walked towards the door and stood there. 

"Mom, dad, Trevor just finished training. He never saw battle. You know why? He's grounded for life." I blurt out.

"What?! I'm so sorry, Trevor!" Mom says. She always took things so innocently. "(Your name) told us how much you've always wanted to fly."

"Mom, Trevor was grounded because he failed the psych eval!" I yelled. Both of my parents turned pale and looked back and forth between me and Trevor.

"What do you mean?" She finally asked.

"He's too 'unstable' to be in the Air Force, but you know what? He can fly! He's not going to let one person that told him no keep him from something he wants to do! Yeah, my boyfriend who is seemingly perfect and who has always been a gentleman to my parents is unstable! And I don't fucking care! I finally care about something enough to tell both of you that I can't do this anymore. I can't live in this house and live this life! I don't want a suburban lifestyle! I don't want to be a housewife! I want to enjoy my life and not constantly wait for something! I don't want to worry about tomorrow until it comes! I'm sorry, but I really can't lie anymore. I can't be the person you two want me to be." I stand there with my parents staring at me. Mom starts tearing up and walks off into another room. 

Dad puts his hands into his pockets and looks down at the floor. "You're definitely my daughter. I didn't want this life either, but I wanted your mother. I had to give up what I wanted for her." Dad says to me. He then looks at Trevor, "Thank you for being a gentleman and for taking care of my daughter. Also, thank you for not keeping her from being herself and instead inspiring her to be more of herself. Just promise me you'll take care of her."

"I promise. I'd do anything for her," Trevor says.

Dad pats him on the shoulder."That's all I can ask for." He stands in front of me and just looks at me, starting to smile. He hugs me tightly and I realize this may be the last time I hug my dad. I hug him back even tighter and can't help but let a tear roll down my cheek. "I love you, (your name). Never forget that." He kisses my forehead.

"I love you too, dad." I say as I wipe the tear away. I turn and Trevor and I walk out the door. 

I'm surprisingly ok with the idea of not saying goodbye to my mother. Trevor opens the truck door for me and closes it once I'm in. He climbs into the driver's side and starts the car. I dig in my bag for my sunglasses and a cigarette. I light it and turn on Channel X, letting my dad see exactly who I turned out to be. Trevor pulls away from the curb and my dad waves us off. I wave back at him.

"I can't believe that just happened," Trevor says, "That was so fucking sexy!"


	33. Flashback #8

I had never been to Canada, but so far it seemed just like North Yankton. Trevor looks uneasy as he pulls into the driveway of a small, rancher style house. I shuts the car off and takes the key from the ignition, shoving it into the pocket of the denim jacket I bought him. I wait for him to get out of the truck, but he never does. 

"Trev, are you ok?" I ask.

"You know how I feel about my family," he says.

"Yeah, but you've met mine, so I want to meet yours."

"Just know you asked for this," he says as he finally gets out of the car. 

We both walk up to the house and he opens the door. I follow him inside the house and it's very dark inside and smells of rotten food and smoke. Dishes were piled up in the sink and roaches crawled all over them. Women's lingerie was strewn all over the living room. I could hear muffled heavy metal being blasted from somewhere in the back of the house. Trevor flicked on the light switch and quickly tried to gather up the lingerie and put it in a cabinet in an embarrassed manner, but I had already seen it. He disappeared down the hallway and came back with a short woman. She had wavy, dyed red hair that was past her shoulders. She looked older than she should, and the cause of it was probably the cigarette she held in her hand. She was dressed in only a robe and looked at me like she already didn't like me.

"She's nice, Trevor.Hold on to her," she said as she looked me up and down, "she might be the only girl insane enough to be with you."

"That's an interesting way to speak to your son," I say.

She laughs, "My son? I wish I had one. This one just comes and goes whenever he pleases, and this time he brought the girl dumb enough to fuck him."

The anger I felt when we left my parents' home this morning was still burning inside me as I went to the cabinet and pulled her lingerie out. I threw it on the counter and said, "At least I'm not dumb enough to fuck anyone. Just your son. Don't fuck with me, Mrs.Philips."

She smirks and a boy that looks similar to Trevor walks in and gets a glass of water. He has the same dark hair and dark eyes as Trevor. He was slightly shorter though and looked average. He wore dirt sneakers, torn up stone-washed jeans, and a black shirt with Fatal Incursion on it. He notices that someone besides his mother is in the room. "Hey, Trevor," he says quietly.

"Hey, Ryan. Come here," Trevor urges. "This is my girlfriend, (your name). (Your name), this is my brother, Ryan."

Ryan offers his hand and I take it. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," I reply.

"Why don't you two come hang out in my room," he says as he sips his glass of water and notices his mother's red and hot pink lingerie on the counter. Trevor and I follow his brother to the back room where the music is coming from. He shuts it off and plops down on the bed. He has a sofa in his room, where Trevor and I sit. "So, what brings you home, bro?"

"(Your name) wanted to move out of her parents' home. We're going to find a place, but until then we decided to come here so she could meet my family."

"I'm sorry about our mother, (your name). She's a whore that entertains her gentlemen callers here," he says plainly. "It's embarrassing enough having someone see her tasteless lingerie sprawled across the house, but to have to lay in bed and hear her and a masculine stranger's voice moan all night is a whole other thing."

"Jesus, Ryan, you don't give ma any regard." Trevor says in embarrassment. 

"What, Trevor? Oh right, I forgot, you can go wherever you please and I'm stuck here. Why should I give her any respect when she can't even respect herself?"

"Damn," I say just above a whisper, "I like you, Ryan. You say things exactly as they are."

"There's enough bullshit in the world. I try not to add to it," he smirks. "I can tell you're the same way. Anyway, how did you two meet?"

"He actually stopped this sleezy asshole from harassing me while I was walking home at night in Ludendorff," I informed him.

"How chivalrous, Trevor!" Ryan says jokingly. In the background we can hear the doorbell ring, and then we hear a man and woman's voice. "Expect to hear moaning in a few minutes," Ryan adds. "How long do you plan on sticking around this time?"

"Not long. You know I can't be around ma too much," Trevor says. Just as he finishes his sentence, we hear a woman moaning and a man yelling obscenities. 

Ryan sits in his chair with a blank expression, but in his head he's probably saying: I told you so; this is my everyday life. "Are you planning on staying here or at a motel?"

"We'll stay here for a few days, but after that we'll have to go. I've set up a job for us to generate some income, so we can get our own place." Trevor says.

"Alright, sounds cool," says Ryan. 

We end up talking with him for hours. It's well into the early morning when Trevor finally tells him he's tired and that we'll turn in for the night. We all told each other goodnight and Trevor took me to his bedroom. I changed into more comfortable clothes.

"I really like your brother, Trevor. How come you never talk about him that much?" I ask.

"It's complicated. We were closer as children, not so much anymore." says Trevor.

"Why is that?"

"Look, (your name), our parents abused us everyday for years. All we had was each other. We needed each other to get through the hell of living with our parents. When our dad finally left and mom became too occupied with being a prostitute, we could finally be ourselves. I guess we realized we didn't have that much in common. Part of it was that he always looked down on me because of how I process things. He thinks he's so special because he's relatively normal and that I'm less than human because of the anger I have. We don't understand each other."

"I don't think he understands that you took the worst of it because you were the older brother, and you tried to protect him. At the same time, you need to be ok with the fact that Ryan has probably been given the opportunity to process it better since he had you to rely on. Who did you have to look up to? No one, so you still harness a lot of anger."

"Yeah, I guess. Anyway, there you go. You've met my family." He sighs.

"I don't regret it," I smile.


	34. The Truth

"What the fuck is this?" Trevor comes into the room holding Johnny's jacket up between his thumb and index finger as if it was diseased.

"You clearly know what it is!" I laugh at him and snatch the jacket.

"Yeah, but why do you have it? It was stuffed inside one of the trash bags that was full of the random shit you took from their trailers." His eyebrows knit together with confusion.

"We all grieve differently, T. This is my way to do it." I run up the stairs to put the jacket somewhere safe.

He follows me. "Look, (your name), I'm really sorry about Johnny."

"Are you?" I scoff.

"Yes!" He stresses. "I can't believe I just apologized for it! That should tell you something!"

"I know, which is why I don't believe you." I turn and glare at Trevor and Michael appears in the doorway.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he smirks.

"Oh no, Mikey, just walk right into my house, you rude fuck!"

"I knocked and stood outside for like ten minute! The door was unlocked, so I decided to let myself in!" 

"Ok, boys! Sorry, Michael. What's up?"

"Amanda and I want to invite you two to dinner tonight. She's been beside herself to start wedding planning," he says. Trevor and I both groan. "Tell me about it," Michael says rhetorically and rolls his eyes.

"We'll come over around six," I tell him.

"Sounds good. I'll leave you two to start this engagement off with an argument like a true marriage. I have to meet with that Franklin kid I told you two about," says Michael as we all walk downstairs.

"Have you briefed him on the job?" Trevor asks.

"No, that's why I'm meeting with him today. He's very reliable and always looking for work, so expect to hear from him soon."

"Thank you, Michael. You don't know how much all of this means." I say.

"No problem. That's what friends are for," he gives Trevor a look. Trevor grimaces. "See you two at six!" He waves and gets into his car.

"I really need to talk to you," Trevor says as we watch Michael drive off.

"About what, Trevor? You've already done enough."

"I know you haven't forgiven me for Johnny. I know you never will," he sighs. He puts his hand around my waist and pulls me closer to him. "I just need you to know that you'll understand when the time comes."

I pushed him. "Don't speak to me in cryptic riddles like I'm a child that doesn't understand anything! I don't want to talk about it anymore!" I ran back up the stairs as I began to tear up. I didn't want him to see me that upset about it because I knew nothing could be done about it. I'm sick of getting upset about it and I didn't want to be mad at Trevor for it because I love him.

I slammed our bedroom door shut and locked it. Falling to the floor, I started to cry. I tried to keep quiet so Trevor couldn't hear me. I've felt so isolated lately. I know I still had a lot of friends, but Johnny and Ashley were solely my friends. They had no loyalty to Trevor, so when he pissed me off I could talk about him to them. I'll never be able to tell them that I'm engaged. I'll never be able to tell Johnny how much I loved him...

Trevor knocks on the door. I don't say a word. I hear him exhale deeply. "(Your name)? I know you're right there by the door, crazy cakes. I can see your shadow." He sits down on the floor with his back against the door too. "Listen, I promised you since day one that I will do anything I have to in order to keep you safe. I promised you and your dad I would do that. I need you to trust me that that is what I did. When it comes to you, I'm not going to even entertain the chance of something happening to you."


	35. Dinner with Friends

Again, Trevor and I find ourselves dressed in clothes all because of some restaurant's dress code. Michael and Amanda were treating us to dinner so we could all discuss wedding plans. I could tell Trevor didn't care and he could tell I was still mad at him after the little outburst earlier today. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to bridge the divide between loving Trevor and him murdering Johnny. I sighed and put in some diamond earrings I bought myself for my birthday one year. 

"You look beautiful," Trevor said as he began tying his bow tie.

"Thanks," I answer passively and walk off into the walk-in closet to find shoes to match the floor length emerald green dress I'm wearing. I decide on some black heels that cover the toes and has a strap around the ankle. Out of my peripherals, I can see Trevor watching me. He's staring as I move my leg out of the slit in the side, a style Amanda has gotten me hooked on, and put the other heel on.

He stands in the closet threshold. "When are you going to stop punishing me?" He asks in a quiet tone.

"I haven't decided. Now can you move? I need to find my wallet." I say, trying to brush past him.

He puts a hand on each side of the door frame, so I couldn't walk out. "I'd like to resolve this before dinner." His face is inches from mine and I could feel his breath on my face. Looking into his dark brown eyes, I could see how badly he just wanted to be loving towards me and I wouldn't allow it. I could actually see the pain, but it wasn't just because of me. I could see that my behavior played off of his worst fears.

"We don't have that kind of time, Trev. Dinner is in 45 minutes," I mention.

"Fifteen is all I need."

"Ok. Fine, but can we go sit on the bed. You're kind of freaking me out by keeping me in the closet."

"Sorry," he said as he looks his hands off the door frame. We both went over to the bed. "What did I tell you I'd never do?"

"Hurt me?"

"Bingo! I need you to just trust me on that. I want to go to dinner this evening with both of us happy. We're going to start planning our wedding. We're getting fucking married!" He exclaimed like he couldn't believe it. It made me laugh. 

"I want to believe you, Trevor, but I just feel like you're hiding something from me." I said defeatedly.

"I have been, cupcake, but the truth will come out. It always does."

"That doesn't make me feel any better!" I yell. I feel like I'm on the verge of tears.

"Why are you getting upset?!"

"You've been lying to me about something?! That could mean a number of things! Have you been cheating on me?!"

"What?! No! I'd never do that to you! No, it doesn't have to do with anything like that. Just know that some day everything will make sense."

"Whatever, Trevor. We have to go to dinner. This talk did not make me feel any better."

"I tried, ok! You can't blame a guy for trying."

"Well, I'm gonna!"

-

My favorite part of going to fancy places is seeing all the Mercedes Benzes and Porsches, and then there's Trevor's dusty, beat-up truck. I recognize Michael's Sedan in the parking lot, so Trevor snags the parking space next to it. He walks with his arm around my back and resting on my waist. I feel his hand slip down and I elbow him in the ribs. "Not here!" I whisper at him sternly. The maitre D asks the party name, to which Trevor replies "De Santa". She tells us the other members of the party are already here and ushers us to the table. 

It was a nice seat. It was out of the way and sort of by itself. We'd be able to have a conversation and actually hear each other. Michael spots us and gives a reassuring nod. He stands to greet us and Amanda practically trips over the table to stand and hug me.

"Congratulations you two! God, it's been ages since we've been to a wedding!" She says excitedly.

"Thank you, Amanda. Michael said you've been dying to start planning." I say.

"Yes! I've always wanted to help plan a wedding! I'm so excited that you two are finally getting married! We never thought we'd see the day, right Michael?!" Amanda laughs crazily.

"She's clearly already taste-tested half the bottle of wine herself," Michael smirks. "But yes, we're both very happy that you two decided to get married. I know this is going to come out badly, but why now?"

"Trevor and I had talked about it before we started doing jobs. Once we started doing them, life just got kind of hectic and it got pushed out of mind. We're finally in a good place to do it though." I answered.

"Some of us wait until it's appropriate, Mikey," Trevor glares at him.

"Whatever you say, man," Michael takes a sip of wine. "I don't regret it." 

Amanda looks at Michael lovingly, "Aw, Michael!"

"Still bang hookers on the regular, Mike?" Trevor asks. Amanda shoots him a nasty look.

"No, T. I've been seeing a therapist. He's helped me cut down on the regular hooker banging." They both snicker at that.

"Oh, I'm sure he does!" Trevor laughs.

Michael shakes his head, "Cut it out, T."

"Anyway, Michael and I are paying for everything. You're not going to spend a dime on this wedding." Amanda cuts the boys off.

"That's too much, Amanda!"

"Stop it! It's the least we can do. Michael and I know now that things were really hard for you two, so we'd like to do this."

"Thank you both!" I say. 

"Have you thought about where you'd like it?" She asked.

"Honestly, I thought about having it in North Yankton." I blurt out. Everyone looks at me with blank expressions. "It's where Trevor and I met." That softens the tone a little bit.

Trevor grabs my hand and rubs the top of it with his thumb. He looks at me and says, "I like it. It's where we met and it's where we went through the hardest point in our lives, and we got through it together. We've overcome it."

"Awwww," Amanda breaks Trevor and I out of our trance where we had tuned her and Michael out. "That is the cutest thing! Why don't you ever say things like that to me, Michael?!" She playfully hits him.

"This is something you'll have to look forward to, Trevor. Nothing is ever enough for them." Michael rolls his eyes.

"No, (your name) isn't like that," he says as he looks at me. "She's always been content with who I am."

"Oh my fucking god, you two are going to make me cry in the middle of a restaurant!" Amanda says, dabbing at her eyes.

"I don't know how you two have done it, but you two are absolutely the best couple." Michael adds.

"Ok, ok, so how many guests?" Amanda cuts in with more excitement.

"You, Michael, Tracey, Jimmy," I stop to think.

"Ron..." Trevor adds.

"Yes! Ron, Wade, Chef, and Floyd." I say.

"Not Floyd!" Trevor says disgustedly.

"Yes Floyd!" I yell back at him. "He's a part of the crew now too!"

"Fine, Floyd can come!" Trevor rolls his eyes.

"Oh, and I'd like to invite my parents." I suggest. Everyone's face got pale and Trevor just stares me down. 

"Do you think thats a good idea?" He whispers.

"I'm their only child, not to mention their only daughter. It would be their dream to see me get married."

"Alright then, add her parents to the list." Trevor sighs.

"So that would make ten guests," Michael says. "That can't be it."

"Well it would have been twelve, but Trevor just can't help himself if you know what I mean."

"Nice, T," Michael laughs.

"So, yes, that's it. We don't want a big wedding anyway. Just the people that matter." I say.

"Ok, well, Michael and I will try to secure a venue, and then we can decide on food and all that." Amanda says.


	36. Flashback #9

"Ok, so you hold it like this," I say, raising the sniper rifle so that the butt is against my shoulder. "This is called a scope," I point it out. "You want to look through the scope. That's how you aim. Inside the scope, you'll see the crosshairs. You can probably figure out why they're called that; they form a cross and they're hair-thin. Just look off towards that road and when you feel like the tires are in your sights, go ahead and pull the trigger." I hand the rifle to Ryan. 

He fumbles with it slightly, not expecting it to be as heavy as it is. Trevor watches from behind and noisily sips a can of Pisswasser. I carefully watch Ryan assume the position I just showed him. I get behind him and lift his arms up slightly to better support the rifle. "Like this?" He asks.

"Yeah, but don't put all the weight into your shoulder. You'll tire your arm out quicker. If you hold it up slightly more, the weight will be distributed more evenly. You better get ready! Here comes a truck." I inform him. All three of us stay quiet and watch with unbearable anticipation. I can tell Ryan is holding his breath, just like I told him. He's a pretty quick learner. Trevor and I aren't prepared for him to make the shot. Surprisingly, he nails the tire! "Nice, Ryan! What do you think T? I'd say tire shooting runs in the Philips's genes."

"Yeah, I'll admit I'm impressed. Hand it over," Trevor motions for Ryan to bring him the rifle. He takes it and stands right at the edge of the roof. He kneels down and takes notice of two cars quickly approaching. A third one is speeding at least twice as much as the other two cars. It goes to go around the other two cars, but Trevor shoots out a tire and the car goes spiraling out of control. The other two cars don't have enough time to brake, so they crash into the back of the other car. Trevor laughs, "Three birds with one stone! I was just planning on shooting the two, but when an opportunity presents itself, you take it!" 

"Ryan Philips!" We hear their mother's shrill voice call agitatedly from behind us. We all turn and see her struggling to walk through the snow with her thigh-high patent leather, high-heeled boots. "I always knew you were a rotten boy, but to stoop to Trevor's level?!" I grabbed the sniper rifle and hid it behind my back. "I already know it's you three that are shooting up the town! Please take it elsewhere! You're scaring off customers!"

"Ok, mom! Just leave us alone!" Ryan calls down to his mother.

"I swear, if I were up there I would smack you! How dare you talk to your mother like that! You boys are a lost cause!" She tries her hardest not to trip as she turns around and walks off, giving a 'why should I bother?' wave.

"If you insist on threatening your sons, why don't you at least make sure you're wearing appropriate footwear!" I yell down at her. Trevor and Ryan both look at me wide-eyed. "What?" I say to them, "I'm sick of hearing her talk to you to like that and neither one of you stand up to her."

She turns so quickly that her beaded, thrift-store bag is swinging back-and forth. "Darling, you're just proving my point that my boys can't even act like men. Trevor lets his girlfriend be the man. You should really put her in her place, son!"

I go to hop down off the roof, but Trevor yanks the rifle from my hand. I proceed to jump down to the balcony and down the stairs and out the front door so that I'mm face-to-face with their mother now. "What were you saying about Trevor putting me in my place?" I say, inches from her face and through gritted teeth.

She smiles, "I like you a lot. You're fierce. A true woman. I'm glad Trevor found you, but you need to learn respect."

"Don't talk to me about respect. You don't even have respect for yourself." I look her up and down, clearly referencing her immodest outfit even though it's below freezing. I scoff and then turn to go back up to the roof. She doesn't say anything else, and turns to leave.

"It turns me on so much when you do shit like that," Trevor says. I laugh at that comment and Ryan looks at his older brother strangely.

"Trevor, I know we haven't talked this over beforehand, but I'm just going to suggest it now. Ryan, would you like to leave with me and Trevor?" I ask.

"I-I don't know. That's really tempting and it would probably be for the better, but everything is here for me. I'll have to think it over," says Ryan.

"You're always welcome, Ryan," Trevor says as he puts and arm around his brother's shoulder. It was sweet, but odd considering I've never really seen Trevor care for someone so genuinely.

"Yes, you're always welcome. Just let us know. We were thinking about leaving in a few days to a week." I add.

-

Trevor places a cup of soup in front of me and Ryan. He goes to grab his own and joins us at the table in the front room. "I hope this turned out ok. Mom didn't have that much in the pantry."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. I snuck a few ingredients in there," I smile.

"For our sake, thank you!" Trevor joked.

"Whoa! It's really good!" Ryan said excitedly. "Mom is not a good cook. I haven't had anything this good in a long time."

Just then, Mrs.Philips storms through the front door. She unzips and kicks off the boots, leaving her in fishnet stocking, a snakeskin mini skirt, and a deep v-cut sweater that made her breasts practically fall out of her shirt. "Ryan, my room now," she demands.

"I'm in the middle of eating," he says.

"My room! Now!" She yells.

He reluctantly goes into her bedroom and she follows, holding one of her boots by the toe part. Trevor and I look at each other. We don't say anything, but I know we're both asking each other if we should intervene. We both assume that nothing bad will happen since Trevor and I are sitting in the front and down the hall from them. However, it doesn't take long for us to hear Trevor's mother yelling and Ryan yelling back. We can't make out any words, but Mrs.Philips's tone was of anger and Ryan's tone was of desperation. I go to stand up and relieve Ryan of the torment, but Trevor takes my hand. I understand that as him telling me he wants to intervene too, but it'll be worse for Ryan if we do. The bedroom door opens and Ryan storms back into the room and sits down at his place at the table. He keeps his head down.

"Ryan?" I say timidly, trying to gauge how he's processing what just happened.

He looks at me. His eye is already starting to bruise and blood is oozing from his nose. "Is that offer from earlier still open?"

"Of course!" I reassure him.

"I'd like to take you two up on it."


	37. Guest of Honor

I took a white envelope out of my bag and inspected it, making sure there were no stray marks, specks of dirt, or bleeding from the pen I used to address it. I flipped it over and made sure the tab was flat and not ripped in any way. Delicately, I put it back in my bag.

"You sure you don't want to inspect it one more time?" Trevor laughs. "And stop biting your lip before you draw blood."

"Sorry," I sigh, "I'm just nervous."

"You've got to be shitting me! You?! Nervous right now?!" He replies sarcastically.

"Ha-ha, very funny, T. You were there the last time I saw my parents; it wasn't exactly a good parting. I never even said goodbye to my mother. What if she wants nothing to do with me? Oh god! What if dad wants nothing to do with me?!" I place a hand over my forehead.

"I don't think I've ever seen you like this. It reminds me of how I acted when it came to my mother," he pauses for a few seconds. "I want you to remember that no matter what happens, I love you and that I'm always here." He smiles and places a hand on my thigh.

I smile back at him and put a hand over his. "Thank you, Trev. I love you too."

I zip my jacket up and pull Trevor's out from behind me. I hand it to him and he puts it on and zips it up at the next red light. Moments like this made me hate Trevor's truck. Los Santos never gets very cold, so it's better suited for the city weather. Up here towards the border it's snowing and freezing cold. It reminded me of when I first met Trevor. He would speed and drift through the streets at night. My cheeks and nose would be bright red from the cold air. I miss those days, before everything got so complicated.

Trevor drives down the familiar streets. We pass by Main Street. The walk-in movies were we used to go on dates was to our left. Then, he turns down my parents' street. This is something I never thought I'd do. He pulls up in front of the house against the curb, like he used to do when we were dating. Mom's and dad's cars were in the driveway. A lamp in the front room was on. As if the universe knew the gloomy undertone to this visit, the snow started coming down harder.

Reluctantly, I get out of the car. Trevor walks with me up to the door with an arm around my my lower back. I wanted to just stand and stare at the house forever instead of going up to the door. Trevor guided me with his arm, knowing how difficult this was for me. I clutched the handle of my bag even tighter and knocked on the door three times. There was no answer. I looked at Trevor and felt myself tearing up. 

"(Your name), it's going to be ok," he smiled. It looked forced. He didn't know it was going to be ok, but he was being supportive.

All of a sudden, a man with all gray hair opened the door. The tears welling up in my eyes were now streaming down my cheeks. The freezing North Yankton weather nearly froze them on my cheeks. The man threw open the screen door as tears began to stream down his face as well. He grabbed me into a hug and squeezed as tightly as he could while he sobbed. Memories flooded back as I smelled my father's aftershave on him.

"Please tell me this is real. Please tell me it's you, (your name)." He whispered through sobs.

"It's me, daddy," I whispered back.

"Come in, come in! It's freezing out here!" He ushered Trevor and I inside. I looked around the house and it didn't look like it changed one bit. As soon as we were both inside, dad looked at Trevor and simply smiled at him. Trevor awkwardly smiled back and extended a hand. Dad grabbed Trevor's hand and pulled him into a hug too. "Thank you, Trevor, for keeping your promise," dad said to him. "I can't believe this. Do you two know how many years I've waited for this? I was beginning to think you never would come back."

"I'm going to be honest and say I didn't think I'd be coming back. I was so nervous that you weren't going to want to speak to me," I said.

"Nonsense! You're my little girl; you always have been. However, what do I owe this visit to? I'm so beyond grateful," he says, choking back more tears.

"Oh! Right!" I exclaim. I dig in my bag for the invitation. I hand it to him and his smile slowly fades as he reads, 'Mr. & Mrs. (Your dad's first and last name)'.

"Before I open this, (your name), I need to tell you something," he says.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Your mother," he begins, "passed away three years ago. She had cancer." 

A tear rolls down my cheek and I just kind of stare into space. I feel like all chances of mending our relationship are gone. Trevor puts a hand on my shoulder and mumbles what I think is "I'm so sorry," but I tune everything out. 

"Oh," I finally say. I sit down on the couch as I begin to feel light-headed. Dad and Trevor join me. "I still want you to open it."

He tears the flap open and pulls out another sealed envelope. Again, tearing open the flap, but this time pulling out an invitation. He opens it up and reads it. A smile so wide and full of happiness grows across his face. He leans over and hugs me and then gives Trevor another hug. "Congratulations! I'm very happy for you both!"

"Dad?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I was wondering," I take a large inhale, "if you wanted to walk me down the aisle."

"Of course I would! It's a father's dream! I do have to say that I'm surprised you two aren't already married. Your mother was convinced that's why you ran off, so that you two could elope in another state that allowed it."

"I hate that I can't tell mom this, but I will tell you this. I left because I knew I couldn't be myself here. I couldn't be myself and uphold my parents' reputations. I needed to be myself somewhere else and I'm sorry it meant me disappearing for years." I felt myself starting to cry again.

"No, no, no, sweetie. Don't cry and don't be sorry. I understood. Do you remember what I said to you when you were leaving?" He asked.

"Yes, I do."

"That's the truth. One of my biggest regrets in life is not getting it out of my system and running around before I married your mother. Don't ever apologize for who you are, (your name). I'm just so thankful that Trevor did keep you safe all these years." Dad said.

"I can't say I did the best job of that sometimes," Trevor admitted. "She fell into harm's way more than once and she has gotten hurt because of me, but I did the best I could because I love her so much." Trevor looks to the floor guiltily.

Dad smiles yet again, "That's all a father can ask for, Trevor. She's here beside me, happy, and loved. That's all I ever wanted for her. Can I ask if I'm a grandfather?" He asks excitedly.

"The answer is going to disappoint you, dad. We've never had children and I don't think I'll be able to." I tell him. Trevor looks at me like 'you're gonna tell him everything?'. "I was in an accident about two years after I left."

"Oh dear, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm glad that you recovered though. If you two want children, don't give up hope. Stranger things have happened."

"I don't know about that, dad. I was hit in my lower abdomen." I informed him.

"Ok, ok. I'm just being a hopeful old man! How I wish I could've watched you grow up." He says sadly.

"Your hair is all gray now! How do you think I feel?" I say, choked up. "I'm just so happy and undeserving of your kindness. I was almost certain that you wouldn't want to see me after the way I left you and mom."

"You're my daughter and you were always more like me than you could have imagined. I could never turn my back on you and I want you to know that your mother didn't blame you either. We never really talked about the day you left because it caused so much pain and confusion for us, but the day before she passed away she said, 'I know we were hard on her and strict, but I hope she knows I meant it out of love and I was just trying to protect her. I wish I could've seen her again just one more time. I hope she and Trevor are still together and doing well. They were the best couple I think I've ever seen, as odd as it sounds.' From the look and sound of things, I'd say you gave her her wish."


	38. Reconnect

I woke up beside Trevor in my childhood bedroom. His back was facing me and he wasn't snoring. Something felt off. I rolled over and kissed him on the cheek and then headed downstairs. I could smell coffee coming from the kitchen. Dad was in there reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee in hand. He was glued to whatever he was reading. I grabbed a cup, made myself some coffee and sat down next to him.

"Good morning, honey," he said sweetly. "This has to be one of the best mornings I've had in a while. I've had so many alone."

"I know, dad. I'm sorry I didn't come back sooner. I just needed to be on my own and things just got so out of hand."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked.

I hesitated, wondering if I should tell him. He was the one person I could truly trust before I met Trevor. It just didn't feel right. He didn't know all the things Trevor and I have done. He still doesn't know we're bad people. "Well, things were really hard for Trevor and I in the beginning. We really had to fight to make ends meet from day-to-day. Then the accident happened and we were right back at square one. We've only figured things out just now. I think that's why we decided to finally get married."

"(Your name)," he starts, "I'm your father. I know you like the back of my hand, even when you've been gone for years. I can tell when there's something you don't want to tell me. It's ok. I want you to know that I'm not going to think any differently of you or Trevor. I understand you two had to do what you had to do to get by." 

I eye him suspiciously, wondering what he's thinking. Does he know? I know it was all in the papers, but is that what he's referring to? "Dad,-"

Trevor interjects, "Mornin'!"

"Good morning, Trevor," dad answers.

"Good morning, sweetie," I say. 

"What are we talking about?" Trevor asks as he pours himself some coffee.

"We were just discussing vaguely what happened after I last saw you two," dad says.

"Where do we start?" Trevor says sarcastically. "We went to Canada because she wanted to meet my family, then we worked our asses off for a house near the border."

"Well, you both have had such an interesting life. I'll say it a hundred more times if I have to: I'm just glad to see you both again." Dad says as he goes back to his paper.

Trevor silently sips his coffee. He stares into space as if he was deep in thought about something else, which I'm sure he was. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and think about a new conversation topic. "So, I hate to tell you this but Trevor and I are going to have to head back to Los Santos. I want to give some other friends of ours their invitations. I also need to get back to Amanda so we can finish planning the wedding."

"So soon? You both just got here yesterday."

"I know, I'm sorry! Trevor and I have been insanely busy lately and we're used to rushing around. I promise we'll stay in touch though," I dump the rest of my coffee down the drain and tap Trevor on the shoulder. He follows my lead and then we all go out to the car. "Here's my number. You can call any time you want." I hand a scrap of paper with my cellphone number scribbled on it.

"Alright, thank you, honey. Same goes to you," he says as he hugs me. "You call too if you need anything, Trevor," he says as he hugs Trevor goodbye.

"Noted," Trevor replies.

We both hop into the truck and Trevor starts it up. This feels like the day I left all over again. As Trevor pulls away from the curb, I wave to my dad. We stay silent all the way to the freeway. Something just doesn't feel right. "Something bothering you, T?"

"No, I'm fine," he says as he clears his throat.

"What if I said I don't believe you?" 

"Well then you don't believe me. What am I supposed to do about that?" He answers grumpily.

"Was it seeing my dad again?" I guess.

"No. Can we just keep quiet? I just need to think." He tells me.

I look at him and try to read what was wrong from the look on his face. He was blank. I couldn't tell what was wrong. I couldn't get anything off of his expression. Trevor had never been this way with me, and I don't like it. I always felt so lucky that I was with a guy that talked to me about anything. Sure, he would go off the deep end and rage out sometimes, but he always came to his senses afterwards and talked it out with me. This felt entirely new though.


	39. Relapse

I knew I was dreaming, but it always felt so real. The pop of a sniper rifle sounded twice. I was running as fast as I could and I could barely see Trevor in front of me in the snowy haze. The third time the rifle was fired, I fell and stared at the sky. I jolted awake in searing pain, like it was happening all over again. My body was covered in sweat, but I was cold. In the darkness, I patted the bed beside me for Trevor. Whenever I had this nightmare, I woke him up too when I jolted up in bed. He would pull me into his lap and hold me until my breathing regulated and I recognized that it was just a nightmare.

He wasn't beside me this time. I threw the covers aside and got out of bed. I checked all the upstairs bedrooms, wondering if he decided to sleep somewhere else. Lately, I feel like he's exited the room when I've entered. I tried to talk to him on more than one occasion, but he acts like he doesn't want to speak to me. This isn't like him. I creep down the stairs, where I can hear muttering. It was definitely Trevor's voice. I walk into the living room, and Trevor is sitting in the corner. He's actually facing the corner and softly muttering to himself. I'm beyond creeped out at this point, but I slowly approach him. 

"Trevor?" I softly whisper to him. He doesn't seem to notice. I place a hand on his shoulder and he jumps up.

"Whoa! Hey! Where'd you come from?" He nervously starts pacing back and forth.

"I was calling you. You didn't hear me?" I asked.

"N-No, I didn't," he scratched at his face. 

"Trevor," I started. I grabbed his arm so he would stop pacing. I took his face between my hands and tried to look at his eyes. I had to strain mine to see in the dark. His pupils are dilated. He knew what I saw and took my hands from his face and tried to go back to pacing. "Trevor!" I yelled.

"What?!" He yelled back.

"You promised me you were done with that shit!" I could feel myself tear up as I slugged him in the arm.

He covered where I hit him with his hand and looked at me. "This is the first time I've taken a hit since I promised you I'd quit. What are you so mad about?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?! I'd rather you smoke pot than meth, Trevor! You always have to do things to the Nth degree! Do you not realize how many people I've lost?! It's like you're bound and determined to be added to the list." I scream at him.

Tears well up in his eyes. "Why are you constantly pissed at me?!" He starts bawling, "You don't know how that makes me feel! It drives me insane feeling like I've wronged you in some way! Then we had to go see your dad and I had to act like our past didn't happen and that you didn't get hurt, and almost killed, because of me! I haven't taken care of you like I promised I would and I will never forgive myself for that! How do you expect me to become a husband if I can't even keep you safe?"

"Trevor, I made my own decisions. I decided to leave with you, I decided to sign up for a life of crime with you, I decided to do everything. Everything that has happened to us is not a reflection of you. You're failing to see that we are both still on this earth, kicking and raising hell. Taking into consideration all we've been through, the probability that we're standing right here is next to nothing. I want to ask something of you. Can you please let go of the guilt you feel and put it in the past? I don't like it when you don't talk to me. I'm here to help you like you're here to help me."

"I can put some of it in the past, but as your partner I can't get rid of all of it," he sniffles.

"That's ok, but you have to promise me that you'll never do meth again! And really mean it this time."

He holds a hand up, "I promise. It honestly isn't as good as I remember. I just feel paranoid."

I laugh, "Probably because you built up a resistance to it because of the fumes from cooking it."

"Probably," he agrees. "Let's go to bed. I'm tired."

"I hope you can get to sleep. Those few times you did it when we were younger would make you go on absolutely insane rampages and then you'd just lay in bed for hours. I'd wake up the next morning and your eyes would be wide open and bloodshot," I tell him. 

"Yeah, I definitely don't feel like rampaging. I feel like the government is watching us and aliens have put a tracking chip in my brain."

"Nice, T," I laugh. "Let's get you up to bed. And Trev?"

"Yes, sweet cheeks?"

"I forgive you for Johnny."


	40. Flashback #10

"You're just like your useless brother! How can both of my boys leave their mother?!" Mrs. Philips bawls and follows Ryan around, trying to convince him to stay. It must not occur to her that playing the victim and verbally abusing him won't make him stay. 

"You're the common thread here, mom. I think you need to think long and hard about that," Ryan says as he lugs another suitcase to the from room. He goes back to his room, Mrs. Philips behind him, and I take his suitcase to the truck. Trevor is outside loading all three of our stuff in the back of the truck.

"How's it going in there?" He asks, throwing a suitcase in the back.

"Not well. She's following him around and throwing insults at him for leaving. She just compared him to you."

"Ooh, that's really mean," Trevor laughs. "Let's go in and help him with the last few bags."

"Ok," I say as I follow him back inside. 

Ryan and his mother are playing tug-of-war with a suitcase. It breaks open and clothes go everywhere. Trevor and I help him pick up some clothes that were strewn all over the floor. Mrs. Philips runs off to her bedroom in the back of the house. I go to hand him some of the clothes I picked up and I hear Mrs.Philip's heels clicking on the linoleum floors and then a click. I knew that click all too well. All three of us quickly looked up, and then she fired. Blood spattered all over me. I could smell and taste it. Ryan dropped beside me. I started shaking and Trevor ran in front of me.

"What the fuck did you do?!" Trevor exclaimed.

"I thought he was different!" His mother cried.

"What do yo mean?!"

"I didn't think he would leave me like you did!"

"That's honestly shocking to me that you thought he wouldn't leave!" Trevor scoffed and yanked the gun from his mother's hands. "Listen to me. Go in your bedroom. I'll take care of it." He tells her. She runs off to the master bedroom and Trevor turns to me. "I know this is a dumb question, but are you ok?"

"I'm not hurt if that's what you mean," I answer, trying not to gag. "I can't get the metallic blood taste out of my mouth."

"Go in the bathroom and clean up. I'll go grab some clothes out of the car for you. Put those clothes in the trash can and bring me the bag." He says to me. I go in the bathroom and shut the door. I try to carefully remove my clothing without smearing blood anywhere. I toss everything into the trash, like Trevor said, and I tie the bag shut. I hop into the shower and Trevor comes in. "I'm putting the clean clothes on top of the toilet."

I peek my head out of the curtain and point to the bag, "Those are the bloody clothes." He picks the bag up and leaves. I scrub and rinse over and over, but I still don't feel clean. I also rinsed my mouth out and spit so many times, but I swear I can still taste blood. I get out of the shower, dry myself off, and get in the clothes Trevor laid out for me. It was a pair of jeans, a tank top, a beige sweater, and my favorite pair of white socks that were perfect for cold weather and wearing boots. I put the boots I was wearing previously on and went out to the main room to find my winter jacket. Ryan's body was gone, but there was a pool of blood in the middle of the floor.

Trevor rushes back in the front door. "Hey, have you seen my big winter jacket?"

"Yeah, we have to throw it out. There was blood on it. Here," he takes off the shearling lined denim jacket I got him and he hands it to me. I put it on and instantly wish I bought myself one.

"Aren't you going to be cold?" I ask.

"My winter jacket is in the truck. Are you ready to go?"

"We're leaving already?" 

"Yeah. I'm going to clean this blood up and then we're going to leave." says Trevor.

"Where is Ryan?" I had to ask.

"In the car," he sighs. I can tell he doesn't want to talk about it, so I go outside and wait for Trevor. He doesn't take too long. "Alright, let's go find us a house."

"A house?"

"We're going to have to live somewhere. I've been saving up for a while," he points with his thumb behind him. I look back and notice a duffel bag. I also notice a black trash bag that was bulging. I quickly turned back forward in my seat and tried to shake all the images coming to mind. 

-

"This is the place that the guy setting me up with work mentioned. It's closest to work. I'm going to make a few phone calls. Just sit tight." Trevor gets out of the truck and pulls his phone out. 

I don't think I'd mind living here. It's a small house, but it's just me and Trevor. There was a beautiful lake behind the house. It was snowy and freezing here in Canada, but it was still beautiful in its own way. Anything beats shitty North Yankton. I know this wasn't the best area of town, but the house is really not that bad at all. It makes me wonder what the inside is like since it's reasonably priced. Trevor comes back to the truck.

"The house is ours. They're going to send a guy out here with the contracts and the key."

"That was quick," I say.

"I have my ways," he smiles. "I know this isn't the way either one of us thought we'd be moving in together, and I'm sorry for that. This new job pays really well, so we can move out of here and into a better place in a few months."

"Don't apologize. You got me out of Ludendorff, but let's save up for an apartment in Los Santos."

"Los Santos? Ok," he looks surprised.

"And I want in on this job," I said to him.

"We've talked about this, (your name). It's too risky."

"I rather be with you instead of wondering if you're going to come home that evening. Plus, I want to have some fun," I smirk.

"Fine, but I'm going to have to brief you on the job and some precautions."

"Ok, that's fine."

Just then another car pulls up and a man in a suit gets out. He has a portfolio in one arm and a small sealed manilla folder in the other. Trevor walks over and greets him. The man hands him a pen, and he signs what must be the contract. He comes over to the truck and digs out a couple stacks of cash and hands it to the man. He then hands Trevor the manilla folder, which he opens. Two keys slip out. He takes one and tosses me the other.

"He said it was already furnished, so that takes a weight off of us," Trevor tells me.

"That's if the furniture is sturdy and usable."

He helps me out of the truck and walks with me hand-in-hand to the house. He slides his key in the lock and opens the door. All the walls are white, except for some areas where the wallpaper is peeling. There are ripped up sofas and chairs in the living room, which is opened up to a very small dining area and the kitchen after that. Trevor and I look at each other. We knew it wasn't going to be the best, but it's a starting point. Trevor goes over to the radiator and turns it on. We can both see our breath in the house. 

"I'm going to take care of Ryan. You settle in," he kisses me on the cheek.

"Wait," I call out to him, "what are you going to do with the body?"

"I was going to make use of the lake in the back, if you must know," he tells me matter-of-factly.

I shoot him a look. "He's your brother, Trevor. Be respectful and bury him."

"Where?"

"There's a graveyard not too far from here. I noticed it when we drove in."


	41. Flashback #11

"You Philips?!" A large, burly man called out to Trevor.

"Yes, sir!" Trevor called back in reply.

"Who's this?" The man asked, referring to me.

"This is (your name). She's my girlfriend and she's decided to help me on my runs," Trevor informs him.

"I swear, all the youth are going awol," he mumbled. "Well, that's fine. As long as she works just as hard. I'll take you to your plane you brought here a month back. We can go ahead and get the first load on board," says the man. 

The three of us walk over to the plane Trevor stole when he was discharged. It was a smaller cargo plane. It originally had the air force's logo on both sides of it, but Trevor had it resprayed a striking matte chrome. The two men loaded the cargo onto the plane, and I set it in the proper areas within the plane. After that was done, the man told Trevor where it needed to go. He climbed up into the cockpit and fired it up. I had never seen him in action like this. It was really hot. I could feel myself blushing. He put on some aviator shades and the headset with a microphone. He turned around in his seat to face me and reach out his hand.

"Come up here with me. You're my copilot," he smirked. I took his hand and stepped between the two seats, sitting in the one next to Trevor. He handed me another headset and pulled the seatbelt over me. "Have you ever flown before?"

"No, never." I smiled with excitement. Not only is this my first time being in an airplane, but I got to see Trevor pilot one! 

He steers the plane out so that it's in alignment with the runway. "Get ready!" He says to me. The plane accelerates more and more until he's almost at the end of the runway, then the plane lifts up into the air. Gravity pushes me back into the seat and I can't help but start laughing due to what a new and exciting experience this is. Trevor looks ver and smiles at me laughing. He hits a button and you can hear the wheels fold into the plane. "Hold my hand!" He tells me. I grab it and he pushes the controls all the way to the right. The plane goes into a barrel roll. I should've been terrified and mad he did that, but I wasn't. Then, he pushes the the controls all the way down and the plane flips slowly backwards. 

"What's that called when you fly on the side?" I ask.

"Knifing?" He answers quickly.

"Yeah! Knifing! Can you do that?"

He performs the stunt as an answer. To be pretty much helpless and feel gravity doing what it wants is such a strange, but kind of incredible feeling. Trevor passes between mountain ranges and flies low over beautiful lakes. He hits the same button again and the landing gear comes out of the bottom of the plane. Through the haze, I begin to see another runway. Trevor decreases the altitude and we jolt forward slightly as the wheels make contact with the strip. The plane slows down and he follows the runway around to face the way we came in. He turns the plane off and we both take the headset off.

"What did you think?" He asks as we walk into the cargo area of the plane.

"It was incredible! Now I understand why you wanted to become a pilot so badly! I can't believe how smoothly you can fly it and all the tricks you can do!" I exclaim excitedly. I turn and wrap my arms around his neck. "You looked really hot."

"Oh yeah?" He blushed.

"Mmhmm," I mumbled as I kissed him. He picked me up and set me on top of some wooden boxes. He reached down and tried to unbutton my pants. "Trevor! We don't have time! We're on a job right now and we're supposed to be meeting someone."

"You think I care?" He smirk dirtily.

"I know you don't, but I don't want to screw up this job. This is all we have right now," I remind him.

"Fine, fine," he backs away and grabs the clipboard that was tucked in the back of his seat. I button my jeans back up and we walk out the back of the plane. He and I walk to the hangar and spot one guy. "Any chance you bought a shipment of illegal guns?" Trevor asked.

"Yeah, I did," the guy laughs. "I'll find something to load the boxes onto and then we can unload them." The guy comes back with a lift that typically is used to move palettes. Trevor and I consult the clipboard as to which boxes to unload. After that is done, the guy signs the paper and tells us that someone needs to move some guns back across the border to be hidden in Canada. He scheduled us to come back in a week and told us that we were to wait right on this runway and we will be met by the guy that wanted to move the guns. 

Trevor assures him we'll be back in a week and then we board the plane again. We fly back into Canada and park the plane in the hangar. I climbed into the cargo area and waited for Trevor to shut the plane down. He came back and lifted me up, kissing me. "We're not on a job now. What do ya say?" That naughty smirk comes back.

I smile and roll my eyes, "Ok, Trevor."


	42. Order

Trevor itched angrily at his face. I couldn't help feeling a little annoyed, but it was slightly funny. That's what he gets. I do not feel sorry for him. He looked over and saw me laughing, which he mimicked in a mocking way. That just made me laugh harder.

"Look, ok, it was fun when I was younger. This just fucking sucks," he spits.

"Now you understand why I did it once with you and never again. It was never good to me. I remember feeling really paranoid and like I had all this energy I didn't know what to do with."

"See, that's why I liked it!" He says excitedly.

"You like feeling paranoid?" I laugh.

"No, no, not that part! I liked feeling like I had more energy. I got a lot more done back in those days," he sighs.

"Coming from the guy that just expanded his business into one of the largest cities and wiped out multiple other competitors," I say. Trevor and I both laugh.

"Look," he starts, "I really am sorry about last night. I just didn't know what else to do to feel better."

"I know, Trevor, I understand. It's just that I'm absolutely terrified to lose you. I always was, even back then, but now I really wouldn't know how to be without you. I know that sounds extremely dependent, but it's not that. We've built our lives together. They interlock. I just don't want either of us to do anything that might cause one of us to lose the other," I tell him.

"There is no me without you, cupcake," he smiles at me and I smile back.

-

Trevor pulls up to the gate in front of Michael's house. He waits for it to move backward and then pulls up towards the garage, parking in front of Michael's black sedan. Trevor gets out of the truck and opens my door for me and helps me out. "Let's go figure this shit out!" He says in motivation. To himself or me, I'm not quite sure. I grab his hand and we walk up to the house. Trevor has absolutely no sense of boundaries, so he just pushes the front door wide open and asserts his existence. "Michael, you fat snake, where are you?!" He yells from the foyer. Amanda comes in from the living room.

"Oh, (Your name), Trevor, I hardly knew you two were here!" She jokes sarcastically, referring to the entrance Trevor made. Michael descends the staircase.

"Yeah, you definitely can't sneak up on anyone with Trevor tagging along," I joke to Amanda.

"(Your name), T, so glad you two could make it this fine evening," he says as he ushers us into the kitchen. All sorts of fine cuisine and wines littered the island in the middle of their kitchen.

"Whoa, this looks like a feast!" I say.

"Well, we were going to take you guys out to dinner, which I promise we will eventually, but these are some of the options for the reception. They said they'd bring it anywhere we wanted, so we thought it might be nice to load up a plate and hang out here. You know, a nice quiet night in." Amanda informs us.

"That sounds so nice. I don't think we've had a nice quiet evening in a long time," I say as I grab a plate.

Michael goes to grab one too, but Trevor snatches it and gives Michael a look. "Really, T?" Michael rolls his eyes.

"Excuse him, Mikey, he's coming down hard," I jeer.

"Wait, what? He's high right now?" Michael looks to Trevor for tell-tale signs.

"No, but he was last night. Don't worry, he got an earful." I tell Michael. Trevor walks into the dining room like he doesn't hear the conversation.Michael moves right next to me so we can talk quietly.

"What the fuck was he on now?" Michael whispers.

"Meth," I say plainly.

"You're shitting me!" Michael laughs. "How has Trevor Philips made it to adulthood?"

"I have no clue. He's done it before though. After the heist, we laid low in Sandy Shores and he picked up the habit. He hasn't done it for years. I don't even know where he got it from, but I promise you that when I find out there will be hell to pay."

"Any ideas of who it might be?" Michael asks.

"Yeah, but I really hope I'm not right."

"Why?"

"The guy is really sweet and kind of childlike. He's scared of Trevor, so I know he was bullied into getting it for him," I reply.

"Sounds about right," jokes Michael. We pick up our plates and meet Trevor in the dining room, who is stuffing his face like he's never eaten. "Is that a side effect? Eating like you were raised in a fucking barn?" Michael laughs.

"Piss off, Michael," Trevor says with a mouth full of food.

"Charming, Trevor," I say. 

Amanda comes into the room with a couple different bottles of wine. She holds one up and says, "I think this one was the one Michael and I thought sounded the best. I thought we'd try that first."

"Yeah, yeah, sounds great. Pop the cork and get me a straw," Trevor says. Amanda looks at him like she's going to rip off his head and then with disgust as she sees how he's eating.

"He's feeling a little off right now, so excuse his terrible behavior," I whisper to her. "Trevor, can you help me find the napkins?"

"Ask Michael. He's the one that lives here."

"Kitchen, now!" I yell at him. He immediately stops and follows me into the kitchen. I grab a dish cloth off the stove handle, wet it in the sink, and throw it at Trevor. "Clean your face and hands. You were just in a great mood! What happened?"

"You already said it: I don't feel good," he says. 

"What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"I'm starving, but I also feel like I'm in a cold sweat and I'm about to puke," he tells me. 

"Ok, well, try to finish eating. Please use the utensils this time though. Afterwards, we'll go camp out on the couch. I just don't think you can go on benders like you used to, thank god." I say to him as we go to the table again. I grab the trash can from the kitchen and place it next to the table beside Trevor, just in case. Amanda had already poured everyone a glass of wine. 

"Everything ok?" Michael asks as Trevor and I sit back down.

"Yeah, he's just feeling a little sick. After we eat, maybe we can go watch a movie in the living room so he can rest," I suggest.

"Yeah, that sounds great," Amanda answers. "So what do you think so far?"

"Oh, it's absolutely delicious! I think this is a real winner. The wine is amazing too! I'd like to try that one too though, just to be sure this is the one we want to go with," I say to Amanda as I point to another bottle. "What do you think, Trev?" I ask.

"Well my plate is empty. You decide though. You know I'll eat anything, so pick what you think other people would like," he says.

"I think we'll go with this then! Thank you guys again, for all that you're doing," I say to both Michael and Amanda.

"Oh stop it! This is like a dream come true for me!" Amanda practically squeals with excitement.

"In a weird way, it is for me too," Michael adds, "You two have been together the longest and are perfect candidates for this. We're really happy it all happened in perfect timing so Amanda and I could be a part of it." Michael raises his glass, and the rest of us follow suit. "To (your name) and Trevor. God help you both," he laughs. We all take a sip from our glasses. 

"This is exactly why I knew you were going soft all those years ago," Trevor interjects.

Michael laughs, "You do not let the fuck up."

"No, I don't, but I do love you, Mikey," Trevor says. Michael, Amanda, and I all look at him like 'he really just said that?'. "And I missed you," Trevor sips his wine. The rest of us had to practically pick our jaws up off the floor.

"I, uh, love you too, man. And I missed you too," Michael replies. The room goes silent. We all eat quietly, and try to let what just happened sink in.

"Fuck it," Trevor says as he stands up and faces Michael. He motions to him for a hug, "Bring it in, you asshole." 

Michael, looking as confused as ever, carefully places his fork down and stands to hug Trevor. Michael looks at Amanda and I like a scared puppy. I had no advice for him. They patted each other's back and lingered for quite a while. Typical Trevor move: turn something nice into a creepy moment for someone else. Michael hung in there like a trooper, and played along. Finally, Trevor releases Michael and sits back down and resumes his meal. Michael slowly sits down and tries to wrap his head around the moment. Amanda and I try our best to contain our laughter, but we don't say a word. 

I don't think everything will be truly right between all of us after what happened with the Ludendorff heist. Trevor holds a grudge about nearly everything and Michael will always have guilt about what he did. However, we were all such good friends. We were family. We had been through enough together and trusted each other so much that we couldn't just give up on the others. It may take a long time to go back to normal, but we're trying to work past it. And that's what counts.


	43. The Heberts

I kissed Trevor lightly on the cheek, waking him up. "I'm going to borrow the truck today," I smile sweetly.

"Ok, cupcake," Trevor answers groggily. He kisses me softly and pulls the covers back up over him. 

I run downstairs and grab the keys off the bar in the kitchen. I hop into the truck, put the key in the ignition, and start her up. It roars to life. I do love this truck. Anyway, I drove to the Vanilla Unicorn. I begged Trevor to change the name. All I know is that if I were a guy, that would not put me in the mood to go gawk at strippers. It sounds like something a little girl would name her stuffed animal. 

"Nice to see you again, (your name)," says Andy, the doorman. "Where's Mr.Philips?"

"He's still sleeping. I came to mainly pay Floyd and Wade a visit, but I also want to see how business is doing," I tell him.

"They're both usually hanging out in the front private room."

"Thank you."

I walk in and the kind of music that plays over porn montages is blaring. I can tell a couple of guys are nearly yelling at one another, trying to have a conversation. As the song fades out, I take that opportunity to go back stage and turn down the music just a notch. Much better. I walk back onto the main floor and spot Wade and Floyd through the opening in the curtain to the private room. I fling the curtains back, scaring both of them.

"(Your name)," Floyd stutters, "I-I didn't think we'd see you again."

"Let me tell you this: Trevor and I always come back. Whether it's to tie up loose ends, do business, or just check up on things, we always come back. Lucky for you two, Trevor is still asleep and I wanted to talk to you both," I say.

"What about?" Wade asks innocently.

I shut the curtain, sit opposite them, and look Wade right in the eyes. "I caught Trevor smoking meth. Know anything about that, Wade?" I eye him suspiciously.

He looks around nervously. "Shoot," he sighed, "I told Trevor that you wasn't that dumb!"

"Oh thanks, Wade! I'm glad you think so!" I say sarcastically. "Don't ever do that again. If I find out that you got drugs for him again, I will come back here and rip the skin off your face."

Wade looks like he's on the verge of tears. "I-I'm sorry, (your name)."

I sighed, "No, Wade. I'm sorry. That wasn't a very nice thing to say. I can be like Trevor sometimes, but you know I'm not usually like that. I just want him to be healthy and around for a very long time. I know it wasn't really your fault. He probably threatened you into getting it."

"That may have been the case," Wade said sheepishly, "but Floyd and I want Trevor to be healthy and alive too!"

"Anyway, how have you two been?" I asked.

"Well! We've been well. I do have to say this isn't my first choice for residence, but it's been better than living with Debra." Floyd answers.

"Good! Where do you two sleep, by the way?"

"There's a sofa in the back office. We take turns sleeping on it." Floyd scratches his head, realizing how bad it sounded.

"Ok, I'll talk to Trevor about maybe adding an addition and making it a livable space for you two. Did you two get the invitations we sent?"

"Yeah! We're so excited," Wade interjected. "Do I get to be a groomsman?"

"You know what? Trevor and I haven't picked bridesmaids or groomsman. I'm kind of glad you brought that up." I scoff, "I never thought I'd be getting married. I have absolutely no idea how to plan one or anything. Thank god Michael's wife, Amanda, is helping as much as she is."

"Why'd you say you never thought you'd get married?" Floyd wondered.

"Don't get me wrong, I always wanted to get married. Trevor and I have just had such a busy life. Everything else took precedence. For the longest time, Trevor and I couldn't even access our money in the bank because we were on the run."

"Well, I'm glad things are different for you two now. And if you need any help planning, let me know. Debra and I were going to get married." Floyd trailed off.

I smiled at him, "Thank you, Floyd. Could I maybe ask for you to help me move something in the office?"

"Of course!" He said. He followed me to the manager's office. I shut the door behind us and sat on the couch. I patted the seat next to me and he looked confused. "What did you need moved?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to talk to you alone for a second," I told him.

"I hope I didn't do anything to upset you," he says.

"No, of course not! I just wanted to ask what your story was. You sort of put yourself in the background most of the time, but I'm forcing you to the front."

"Well," he starts, "Wade and I-"

I cut him of, "I know Wade's story. I want to hear yours."

"I was born and raised around Grapeseed. The accent probably gave it away. I've always had an uneventful life. I tried to go to college after high school, but it just didn't feel right. Wade and I were close when we were younger, but he became friends with those people that like to put clown makeup on and they drifted around. I started hearing rumors about him smoking meth, but they weren't rumors. That made me kinda angry, so I saved up what I could from working on a local farm and went into Los Santos to make something of myself. I weaseled my way into business conventions to try to find a better job. I met Debra at one. She helped me get a job at the docks and we started dating. I asked her to marry me and the rest is history."

"You moved out here because you were mad at Wade?" I asked.

"I thought he moved out here and he thought he was doing so much better than the rest of the family. That thought annoyed me, so I wanted to do the same, but better." He looked disappointed.

"I think you definitely achieved that. Wade never made it out of Blaine County and you're the only one with a legitimate job." I assured him.

"Thank you for saying that. It means a lot." He smiled awkwardly for a split second.

"You're more interesting than you give yourself credit for, Floyd. Now I've got to get back to Trevor to make sure he didn't burn the house down. Keep Wade out of trouble."

"Will do."


	44. Flashback #12

"When are we supposed to meet this guy?" I impatiently check the time. 

"Calm down. The guy in the hangar said any minute now," Trevor tries to console me, but I just feel like something is off. 

Off in the distance, I swear I see two dust trails coming up the runway. I tap Trevor's arm and point to it. "Trevor, I don't think this is right."

"Fuck! You're right! Shit!" Trevor looks around, hoping an idea will come to him. 

The guy we're supposed to meet hits the brakes as hard as he can and drifts right in front of me and Trevor. He jumps out of the car and runs towards the plane. The second guy is yelling as loud as he can out the window. He hits the brakes, trying to avoid hitting the other guy's car and jumps out after him. Before I know what's happening, a loud bang comes from behind me. Trevor had shot off a flare gun. I look back to the man that was yelling, who isn't yelling anymore. The flare is sticking halfway out of his eye. 

"Help me get the body!" Trevor yells. "Hurry! We don't have a large time window!" I rush over and grab the man's legs, but the third guy rushes over and takes a leg. We all lug him onto the plane, in the back cargo area. Trevor jumps into the pilot's seat and I'm left in the cargo area with the new guy and the dead body. The whole plane is beginning to smell of burning flesh.

"My name is Michael, nice to meet you," he coughs and offers his hand.

"Nice to meet you too. I'm (your name). This is Trevor," I can feel myself getting ready to purge my lunch every time I open my mouth and breath in. "T, please get us there quick. I don't think I can stand the smell."

"Ugh," Trevor begins to sound sickly, "I'm right there with ya." 

Around fifteen minutes later, Trevor lands the plane a little more recklessly than he normally would have. We were all eager to get the body out of the plane. Michael and Trevor moved quickly to help get the dead guy off the plane. They dragged him over to the lake behind the hangar, and dumped the body. I watched from the runway as they came back up the hill. We all held our stomachs and mouths.

"Hey, I'm Tre-" Trevor begins to say when he throws up. He sinks to his knees and just lets it happen. 

"I can still smell it. Can you?" Michael asks me, pinching his nose.

I nod in reply and walk off over to a grassy area. I can hear Michael start to heave behind me. I tried to focus on the ground in front of me, and not the symphony of upheavals behind me. I can't. The stench lingers. I throw up all over a bit of snow, causing it to melt. The smell of burning flesh permeates like cigarette smoke. I think I smell it on my clothes, in my hair, and layered on my own skin. As I start to feel better, I wipe my mouth on the sleeve of my jacket. I turn to face the boys. Michael is sitting next to his vomit pile, looking completely spent. Trevor is laying down, spread eagle, next to his pile of puke. It almost makes me want to laugh, but I know if I do I'll start puking again. 

I distract myself by walking off towards the hangar to get the car. "You'll have to hose down the runway when the weather warms up," I say to the man that runs the hangar once I'm inside. I hop in Trevor's truck and pull up next to Trevor and Michael. "Hop in," I tell them. Michael stands up and dusts himself off. Trevor slowly sits up and Michael helps him get to his feet. Both of them approach the car slowly. Trevor practically falls in the seat next to me. Michael hops in the back. "I promise I'll drive slow, Mike. None of us can handle a rough ride right now." I assure him.


	45. Girls' Day

"That dress looks like it was made for you!" Amanda squeals and then sips champagne.

"I think it's perfect! The only thing he'll be thinking of all night is what's underneath," Tracey smirks.

"Tracey De Santa!" Amanda scolds her daughter. "She's right though. It will ensure a good wedding night!"

"I'm not sure that's the message I want to give. After all, we wanted it to be a quiet and small get-together. A sexy form-fitting gown would be more appropriate with more guests. There will only be a few people there which feels, well, too intimate. Plus, my father is going to be there. I think I'd like something a little more classic."

"Ugh," Tracey rolls her eyes, "Soooo BORING! You have the body to pull it off and it's the one time in your life you get to wear a dress like that."

"Think of It like this, Trace. Would you wear that at your wedding if your father and I were there?"

"Hell yes! It's hot!" Tracey exclaims.

"Why did I even ask? Your father wouldn't even care! He'd just say, 'Whatever my little princess wants!' Anyway, what style were you thinking?"

"Something like this." I walk over to a mannequin. The dress it was wearing was an off white, floor length gown. It had silk buttons running down the back and a lace panel that went over the shoulders and across the chest. It didn't have a train, making it look more like a ball gown than a wedding dress.

Amanda smiled and said, "Ok, try it on."

I came out of the dressing room and Amanda was nearly in tears. "I take it back. THAT dress looks like it was made for you. You look so beautiful. I wish I looked half as good on my wedding day."

"Oh stop it! You were just as beautiful on your wedding day! Where's Trace?"

"She's trying on a dress she liked," Amanda informs me. 

Tracey, as if on cue, comes out of the dressing room in a hot pink, silk dress that was strapless and came to halfway down her thigh. When she sees me, she stops and covers her mouth with her hands. "I thought it was going to be totally boring and old-fashioned but it is so gorgeous!"

"It'll be a cold day in hell if you think you're wearing that, Tracey." I laugh. "I think Michael would have the common sense to be mad at that!"

"Fine! But I refuse to wear any of those grandma dresses!" She points to a particular set of dresses.

"Don't worry. Even I think those are grandma dresses." I smirk deviously, which makes Tracey smile.

-

The three of us walked down the street from the bridal store, with dresses in hand. We decided on a lavender color evening gown for Tracey and Amanda. We stopped in a coffee store and all got a coffee before heading down the street and meeting the boys for lunch. Tracey rattled on about how difficult college is and how Amanda and I are so lucky to not have to date anymore.

"You're saying that now because you don't know what finding Mr.Right is like," I tell her.

"Are you saying you're not happy?" She asks.

"No, I'm extremely happy with Trevor. I'm just saying that when you finally meet someone, live together, and learn every little thing about them, it's much different than seeing each other every weekend and fighting about trivial things."

"Isn't that the truth!" Amanda puts on her shades as we leave the coffee shop.

"I don't think I understand," Tracey says with a look of confusion on her face.

"You will someday," I assure her.

"I think what we're trying to tell you is that you're so eager to settle down and be done with dating, but it's much harder than you think it is." Amanda adds.

"How can that be?!" 

"Well, for one, you move in together and you argue about money. You have bills to pay at that point. You'll disagree about the importance of the things you both choose to spend the money on. You're young, Tracey. I'd enjoy dating immature assholes for as long as you can," Amanda scoffs.

I can't help but laugh. "If you're anything like me, Tracey, you'll end up with an immature asshole anyway!"

"Same here!" Amanda says and we all laugh.

After the laughter subsides, Tracey asks, "What attracted you to Trevor?"

"Honestly, when we were younger he had the traits I wanted to see in myself. He let me be the person I always wanted to be."

"I would've loved to see him when he was younger. I look at him now and just think, 'How have you kept a relationship this long?' "

"I have a shoebox full of photographs when we were your age. I'll dig it out and show it to you sometime. There are some of your dad before he met your mom and there are even some polaroids from when they first met!"

"Oh god, no! That was before I had my boob job! I left that body in the past." Amanda groaned.

"I would love to see it! I don't think I've ever seen pictures of mom and dad when they were younger."

"I don't want to call your parents out or anything, but it was a difficult life. When you and Jimmy were born, I think they just wanted a fresh start for you kids to have a better life. Your dad really wanted you and your brother to have better chances than the ones he was given. Unfortunately, that meant leaving behind the past." I told Tracey.

"I'm really glad that you found us again though. I missed you so much. I never understood why we weren't allowed to see you or Trevor anymore when Jimmy and I were younger. I understand now and I know dad had his reasons, but I'm glad you all are working it out."

"Me too," Amanda interjects.

"Me three," I add.

We're nearly at the suit shop when we see Jimmy come flying out of the door as if he was shoved out. Michael stumbles out behind him, dropping bags and yelling. Then, Trevor storms out, but he faces the store again and shouts, pointing a finger at someone. Jimmy notices us, staring at them from a few shops down. Jimmy looks nervous and taps his dad on the shoulder. Michael looks our way, nods, and then grabs Trevor by the back of the collar on his shirt. Trevor is forced to break eye contact and notices us. We begin walking toward them slowly.

"Hello, ladies! How are you all doing this fine day?" Trevor says, taking my hand in his and kissing it. I notice his knuckles are bloody and when he kisses my hand, it leaves a red mark. Trevor quickly tries to wipe it away, but I notice his lip is bleeding when he looks at me.

"What was all that about?" I ask.

"Oh, just a gentleman's disagreement," Trevor says.

"That's one way to say it," Michael sighs. "Don't worry. We bought suits before all that happened."

"Then what on earth could you get in a fight about after you make the purchase?!" Amanda exclaims.

"Some snobby French asshole was being a dick and Trevor took it upon himself to correct the situation." Michael said.

"What did he say?" Amanda inquired.

Jimmy looked sheepish but blurted out, "He was getting annoyed that dad and I are a larger size and suggested we shop somewhere else instead of wasting his time with alterations that 'ruin his suits' while he was taking measurements."

"So what did you do, Trevor?" I asked.

"Well, we bought my suit and I told him that he was going to do the alterations because that's what comes along with being a retailer. He said he would, but he was getting an attitude about it and made a few unkind jokes too many. So, I may or may not have punched him! It's really not a big deal. I don't know why we're still talking about it." Trevor says awkwardly and walks off down the street. 

The rest of us look at each other nervously, but walk off in Trevor's direction.


	46. Lunch

We arrive to the restaurant and the waiter seats all six of us. I immediately ask for a glass of water with ice. Our waiter places the menus down and goes to get the glass of water. He comes back and sets it down in front of me. I unfold the cloth napkin that contains my silverware, and I dunk it into the glass of water. Everyone looks at me like I'm crazy except for Trevor, whose hand I grab and begin gently wiping the blood from his knuckles. Every now and again he winces in pain. After his hand is mostly clean, I fold up the napkin so that the outer layer is dry and I scoop out the ice from the glass and into the napkin. I hand it to Trevor and he places it on his hand. I go to pick up the menu and I notice everyone is staring at me. They smile awkwardly.

"What?" I ask.

"You two were made for each other. Like who else walks into a restaurant and immediately demands a glass of ice water to clean up bloody knuckles?" Jimmy answers.

"It's not the first time, Jim." I tell him.

"Oh, I believe that. It's just, you and Uncle T have a totally different dynamic than mom and dad," Jimmy trails off and picks up the menu.

"I think that's every couple though. Any two couples are not exactly alike. For example, your mom and dad are relatively normal and can worry about relatively normal things. I, on the other hand, have to worry about black eyes, bloody knuckles, and dead bodies." I snicker.

"I'm sitting right here!" Trevor pipes up. Everyone laughs.

"Honestly, I think what Jimmy was trying to say is that you can just tell that you two love each other. Amanda and I don't always have the easiest time showing that," Michael adds.

"I wouldn't say that. I'd say that you two had a lot more to worry about than just yourselves. You have a family to look after. When you have kids, that takes precedence. Your relationship is strong, but you haven't taken time to actually be with each other in a long time." I say.

"Thank you! I've been trying to tell them to take a vacation together for a week or two for years!" Tracey yells.

"Yeah! Why don't you?" I ask Michael and Amanda.

"Well for one, we don't trust these two alone for even a weekend." Says Amanda.

"You know we'll watch them," Trevor joins in, "It'll be fun! Quality time with Uncle T and Aunt (your name)!" Trevor looks excited, but Michael and Amanda look nervous.

"I will be there to monitor the activities," I laugh as I assure them.

"If you two really don't mind doing that, then let's do it, Michael. When and where should we go?" Amanda asks her husband.

"How about next week for two weeks and we'll go to the Bahamas?"

"More than fine with me!" Amanda says excitedly.

"God, having (your name) and Trevor back here have done so much good for you and daddy." Tracey adds.

The waiter comes back to take our order. He looks suspiciously at me when I order a drink and he notices the glass of water that is now slightly pink-toned and missing ice. Trevor moves the make-shift ice pack to his other hand so he can pick up the menu. The waiter grows increasingly nervous as he puts all these clues together. He takes our orders quickly and leaves as soon as possible.

"Would you guys mind staying at our house while we're gone? It would be an easier commute for Tracey to go to school and Jimmy is glued to his video games all day, every day, so that'll keep him out of trouble." Amanda asks.

"That's completely ok with me! Trevor and I are used to being away from home."

"Oh my god, I know! It feels like you two are off somewhere different every other day!" Says Amanda.

"Before you two go off anywhere else, Franklin is ready to meet with you two. He's very excited about the job." Michael tells us. "I set up for you two to meet him next Thursday at his garage. It's a secluded space and he said you can store things there if you need to."

"Ugh, Michael, don't talk business. Also, don't get that sweet boy arrested!" Amanda teases.

"Franklin can handle himself and this is all I'll say about business, "Michael rolls his eyes.

"Thank you! I wanted to have a nice crime-free lunch with our children."

-

"I really wish you would've let us get lunch," Amanda says defeatedly.

"You guys are covering our entire wedding. The least we could do is get lunch," I reassure her. "You and Michael need to stop feeling guilty and like you owe us."

"But we do!" Michael adds.

"No, you guys really don't. Tell them, Trevor."

"You two put us in an annoying situation in the past, but we made it through and left it in the past. All we wanted was to see you guys again. As far as we see it," Trevor puts a hand on my shoulder, "we're equal. Besides, Michael, seeing how much you hate yourself now is payment enough!" Michael smirks at that.

"Trevor!" I playfully hit him. "Anyway, we'll see you guys off on your trip on Monday."

"Looking forward to it," Michael adds.

Trevor and I hop into a cab and give the driver our address. I wrestle with the bags as I try to keep them upright to my right. I scoot over and nudge myself into Trevor's arm. He places it around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. He makes a sigh of comfort. 

-

"So, how is the briefing going to go with this Franklin kid?" I ask Trevor.

"We'll know when we meet him. Michael seems to really like him, but I need to gauge his character for myself. Michael can be too easy on people." Trevor says as he grabs me by the waist and pulls me against him. "I can't say the same for me." He smirks.

I roll my eyes. "Yes, I know. Speaking of which, I'd like to know what happened at the suit shop today."

"I didn't kill him if that's what you're wondering," Trevor grumbles as he kisses my neck.

"But does this mean the cops are looking for you now?"

Trevor stops and looks at me with confusion. "Do you want me to kill him?"

"Jesus, no! I just need to know if the cops are going to show up here and I'll have to tell them I've never heard your name before."

He smiles and kisses me. "No. It's going to be ok."


	47. Flashback #13

"I have to ask this since we've run a couple jobs together, Mike. What did you do exactly before you met Trevor and I?" 

"I did a couple minor burglaries. Nothing too outstanding until the guns run where I met you both. That was by far the worst," Michael scoffed and took a swig from his glass.

"Yeah," I laughed. "I have to agree on that one. I don't think Trevor or I have ever had that much bad luck. I swear, I can still smell burning flesh on my winter coat."

"Don't remind me!" He jokes. "I can remember the smell all too well."

"What are you two ladies talking about?" Trevor entered the room, as he put on the denim jacket over his stained white t-shirt.

"The job where we all met. We can't forget the smell of the flare gun burning in that guy's eye socket, thanks to you, Trev," I informed him.

Trevor shrugged. "I've smelled worse."

"Are you saying that you've smelled something worse than burning flesh or you've smelled worse yourself?" Michael snickered.

"Oh, fuck off," Trevor snapped at Michael.

"Hey!" I yelled at him. "We're a team!"

"Yeah, because he couldn't get that guy off his tail! I don't know how you were picked for that job. You led him right to us," Trevor plopped down on the bar stool next to me dejectedly. 

"Well, I'm grateful for it. I know the job didn't go exactly as planned, but Michael is a good guy. He's reliable, whether you think so or not." I say to Trevor.

"Thank you, (your name). I'll drink to that," Michael held up his glass. All of us hit our glasses against one another's.

"You'll drink to anything," Trevor jeered.

Michael chugged the rest of his beer. "True! Anyway, anymore jobs planned?"

"Yeah, actually. I met this guy, Brad, who is willing to help us with robberies." Trevor says. 

"I'd like to meet him before we do any heists with him." I interjected.

"You both will. We're just waiting it out until things calm down around here since the three of us just hit a bank," reassures Trevor.

"I know a guy that can probably help us set it up. His name is Lester," Michael added.

"Let's set a date and time. The three of us will meet along with Brad and Lester. We can discuss things in detail then," I suggest.

"Sounds good." Michael replies as he gets up and puts his coat on. "How about Saturday at noon?"

"That works for us. Don't forget to tell Lester," I say.

-

For once I felt secure. Oddly enough, this has been the most chaotic time in my life so far. Something about the danger of it all made me feel so complete. I could tell Trevor was slightly more anxious and cautious when I did heists with him, but he knows theres no telling em otherwise. I made him promise to include me on heists, but sometimes he would come home with bits of broken teeth in his knuckles and blood spotted on his shirt. When he did this, he looked completely relaxed. This is how Trevor unwinds. 

He pulls up to the small house we shared near the hangar. He got out and opened my door for me. We had been out all day, so I went to get the mail from the mailbox. I flipped through it and noticed a thick envelope with my name and Trevor's scribbled on the front.

"I think our payment from the last job finally came through," I held up the envelope and waved it as Trevor and I walked inside our house.

"It's about time! We can't walk around with all of that in our pockets, so let's find a hiding spot," suggested Trevor.

"Good idea." I walked into our bedroom and looked around. Trevor followed me in and tried pulling the cover to the air conditioner off to see if we could put the money in there. I noticed a small ammo box underneath the desk in our bedroom. I never noticed myself, so it would probably be a great hiding spot. I pulled it out and began to open the top. "What about in here?"

"No!" Trevor nearly jumped across the bed and tried to grab the ammo box.

I slid it away and squinted at him. "Why not?"

"Please just give me the box, (your name)."

I turned my back towards him and looked inside the box. I could hear Trevor sigh behind me. There were more papers than anything. I flipped through them until I saw what looked like a release form and mugshots of Trevor paper-clipped to them. "What the fuck is this, Trevor?!"

"I didn't want you to know," he said just above a whisper.

"How could you have hidden this from me! This is serious! They have a record on you now!" I could feel my blood begin to boil and a knot formed in my chest, throat, and stomach.

"Which clearly doesn't matter because the only way you found out is by finding those papers!" He was trying to console me.

"It doesn't matter?! When did this even happen?! We were dating for a few months by the dates on here!" I angrily shook the papers.

"When I told you I was visiting my family, I was actually doing a job. It didn't go the way I meant it to."

"No shit, Sherlock! I can't believe you lied to me about this! What else haven't you told me?" 

"This is the only thing I've kept from you. I promise." He crawled over to my side of the bed and took my hands in his, looking up into my eyes. "Please trust me. This is the only thing I've lied to you about and I had good reason to."

"Which were?" 

"I was embarrassed and I knew that if you found out I'd lose you. I never thought in a million years you'd join me in doing things like that, so I just wanted to forget about it."

"You can't hide anything forever and you had multiple opportunities to come clean," I said.

"I know. I've felt guilty about it for a long time if it's any consolation."

"What happened exactly that was so embarrassing?" I asked. He looked at the floor. "Trevor?" I urged.

"I tried to rob a place that cashed checks. I happened to know the guy and he id'd me," Trevor said shamefully. I tried as hard as I could to hold in my laughter, but it slipped out. "It's not funny!" he yelled.

"It is though! Even I know not to stick up a joint where someone might know you! Anyway, it was a rookie mistake," I was now trying to make him feel better.

"Anyway, I did four months of a six months sentence. You should be proud." Trevor said.

"I'm proud of you every day, Trevor. And why do I find that kind of hot that you were in the Big House?" I said just above a whisper, looking guilty.

"You just get more and more fucked up," he smirked deviously. "I love it."

"I blame you," I tell him jokingly as I sit beside him on the bed. He kisses me on the cheek. "Don't think I've forgotten this already. I'm watching you like a hawk, Philips." I kiss him and then teasingly walk towards the door. "I'm going to go make dinner now," I give him a wink before leaving the room.


	48. Flashback #14

I sprint down the hall as quickly as I can. Trevor is a couple paces ahead of me, carrying a duffel bag. I try to quickly change out the clip in my gun. Looking behind me, I make sure Michael and Brad are still in tow. Brad trips and unfortunately his bag was unzipped. He doesn't fall, but bills come flying out of the bag. Michael's face is beat red from running. He's completely winded, but he stops to help Brad pick up the money that fell out.

"We couldn't have splurged on a better crew member?" Michael jabs.

"I was thinking the same about you," Brad quips back.

"Guys!" I scream. "Not now! When this door opens in twenty seconds, we have to run straight for the getaway car. We don't have time for anymore screw ups. After that, the driver will take us to the base at the slaughterhouse. We'll stash the money and check-in with Lester. Got it?" I tell Michael and Brad. They reply with grumbles.

The metal door slowly begins to rise. Trevor doesn't wait for it to completely open. He ducks underneath it and runs for the SUV in the middle of the parking lot. I check on Brad and Michael again, who are just beginning to zip up the bag. Brad slings it over his shoulder and we all go running after Trevor. The back of the car is open, so we throw the bags into the back. Brad slams it shut and gets in the passenger seat. Trevor, Michael, and I hop into the back. The driver, who none of us have seen before, pushes the petal to the floor. I suddenly become aware of the police sirens in the distance. I've done this enough to know they'll never catch up with us. I relax.

"You can drive slower. They're far enough away. Plus, if you drive normally they're more likely to believe we aren't the suspects," I inform the driver.

"You sure?" He makes eye contact with me in the rear-view mirror.

"Listen to her; she knows what she's talking about," Michael reassure him.

"Well boys, and lady, I would say we just had ourselves a successful heist on the North Yankton County Bank!" Brad says.

"Why are you so excited? The score wasn't nearly as big as I was expecting," Trevor snapped.

"Look on the bright side, Trev, it could've been a lot worse. Lester estimated the time frames beautifully, so we don't really have to worry about the cops' response time and we're a couple ten thousand dollars richer. That's more than a lot of people living here can say." I try to show him the silver lining.

"And we just took their life savings," Michael adds.

"You're not helping, Mikey," I say sarcastically. 

Trevor looks out the window beside him and Michael looks out the other window beside him. I, sitting in between the two sour pusses, lean forward between the driver and passenger seats and extend a hand to Brad. He high-fives me and we both smiles. "I think it was a job well done too, Brad," I say proudly. The driver pulls into the parking lot of the slaughter house we were using as a cover for our base. 

We each grabbed a bag and went inside to the second level where Lester had set everything up. He was typing quickly on a computer. When he noticed us enter, he wheeled his wheelchair backward and then towards us. "I see you all made it in one piece," says Lester.

"We couldn't have planned it better ourselves," I say theatrically as I take a gratuitous bow. "The cops weren't even halfway there when we were leaving. It was basically a joyride here."

"How much did you all make off with?" Lester wheels himself over to the duffel bags we dropped on the floor and unzips one. "This is it? I knew this was a small, dwindling town, but this is pathetic. I need to find a better job right away." Lester goes back over to the computer and starts typing rhythmically again.

"I agree. This was a waste of my time and energy. I was hoping to get enough so that we could get away from this awful fucking town!" Trevor yells.

"Take it easy! It was a toss up for all of us. It's not Lester's fault." Michael tries to calm Trevor, but I knew he wouldn't get anywhere.

"Whose fault is it then? Because Wheels over there is the one who told us about the job and set it up." Brad tries to get under Michael's skin whenever he can.

"That's not fair, Brad," I interject, "Lester told us he had no idea the exact amount that was actually there. He even told us there isn't as much activity reported as other banks. I used to live here. I should have told you not to expect much."

"Let's all just agree to accept some fault in different aspects," Lester says, not looking away from the screen. "Shit," he sighs.

"What, Lester?" I ask. He doesn't answer.

"Lester, what's the matter?" Michael tries to get his attention.

"This is what we get for letting a guy whose memory is going along with the use of his legs," adds Brad.

"Hey! I don't want to hear any more shit about Lester! We would still be at square one without him!" Michael yells at Brad and pushes him.

Brad pushes Michael back. "What're you gonna do about it?"

"HEY!" I yell at the top of my voice as I run in between them and push them both back.

"Lester! Answer before these two start hate-fucking!" Trevor sits on the table.

"There's a job up for grabs, but I don't think it's a good idea." 

"Why not?" I ask.

"There are too many unknown variables. I can't gauge a response time and I can't say for sure how much money is being stored. but it's definitely more than the bank you all just hit. The cops are going to be jumpier since we just did a heist. It's the last place I can think of to hit, but I would advise you all to just wait until something more secure comes up." 

"You think we can't take on a little challenge?" Brad asks sarcastically. 

"Does he ever respond like normal human being?" Lester asks me rhetorically.

"I say we do it," says Trevor.

"What? Lester just told us it's too risky. Why would you agree to do it?" I wonder.

"I want to get all the money we can out of this shit hole of a city, and I want to get you out of here. I promised I would and I am a man of my word." Trevor tells me.

"I'm with Lester and (your name). It's too risky. We have too much riding on this." Michael adds.

"Then you don't have to be a part of it, Mikey. I rather not involve (your name) anyway, so you two can stay safe and sound here while Brad and I do the heist. And by the way, you meant that you have too much riding on this," Trevor gives Michael a look of disappointment, hops off the table, and heads into the room that him and I slept in. 

"You know what? Let's do it. All of us want out of North Yankton and this is the only way we're going to be able to do that. The lack of scenery and constant snow is driving us all insane." Michael gives in.

"I think we should sit on it." I say angrily.

"There will be no heist unless I get an 'ok' from all four of you," Lester assures me.

"In that case, I'll sleep on it. In the mean time, I'm going to get Trev and we're all going out to celebrate today's success." I announce to Michael, Brad, and Lester. Then I walk toward Trevor's and my room. I open the door and the room is pitch black. I close the door behind me and I'm hit with a familiar smell. A knot forms in my stomach. "Trevor?" I whisper into the darkness.

"Yes, sweet cheeks?"

I climb onto the bed that only had a mattress on it. I laid my head on Trevor's chest and watched the smoke cloud rise to the ceiling and dissipate. "Can I have a hit?"

He tries to look at me the best he can and ends up handing me the pipe anyway. "Don't take too much."

"That's funny coming from you. Don't tell me what to do, Trevor." I snap at him.

"I know better than to do that. You're your own person and I'm not going to stop you. I am barely in charge of my own life; I don't want to parent someone else's."

"Then don't tell me what heists I can and can't take part in," I take a hit as my eyes adjust to the darkness. I hand the pipe back to him.

"I'm sorry," he says, looking defeated.

"Don't be sorry, just take off your pants. And then we're all going out to celebrate." I tell him.

-

I suggested a bar that was closer to the slaughterhouse, but Brad was desperate to go somewhere with strippers. So, Michael ended up driving all of us over an hour away just so Brad could get his fill. I got out of the car to help Lester out with his walking stick. Brad practically ran inside, not waiting for the rest of us. Michael tried to get out of the whole situation by saying he wanted to smoke, so he could stay outside. I told him that if I'm going in, so is he. I could tell Trevor was extremely uncomfortable because these places reminded him of what his mother had to do to support him and his brother.

Lester, Trevor, Michael, and I made quite an entrance by all walking in together. We spotted Brad throwing his cut of the heist today at a stripper with short blonde hair. Lester walked himself over to a table in a corner, far away from the stage. Trevor took my hand and we went to sit with Lester. Michael kept glancing at something, but slowly joined us at the table. I watch him and notice that it's a girl he keep lookin at. A stripper, to be exact. I never thought Michael was that kind of guy, but I always hoped he would meet someone. I just wasn't expecting that person to be at a strip club.

"Why don't you ask her what time she gets off?" I ask Michael.

"What? I don't know what you mean." He blushes.

"You've looked at her several times."

"I'm sure she gets asked that all the time. She doesn't want to see me."

"You never know, Michael," I encourage him.

"Can't one of you just go over and say, 'hey, my friend over there likes you and was wondering when you get off work?' " Michael asks.

"No, because this isn't high school and take it from a woman, we like when men do things themselves and are direct about it," I say.

"Is that how you got her, T?" Michael asks jokingly.

"Actually, Michael, yes." He answers, matter-of-factly.

When Michael realizes no one else is joking around with him, he gets up from the table. "Ok, then. I'll do it." We all watch him walk over to a stripper with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes. She seems more approachable than the other girls in this club. Something about her seems more genuine.

"This aught to be a train wreck," Lester pipes up.

"If it is, it is. I just want him to start putting himself out there." I say.

"I agree, but is this really a good place to do that?" says Lester.

"Not for us, but maybe for Michael."

A few minutes later Michael comes back to the table with a napkin. He's all smiles, so I assume the best. "Her name is Amanda and she gets off in two hours. We're going to have a drink at the bar then."


	49. Michael and Amanda's Departure

Amanda picks up a large suitcase, struggles with it, and Michael grabs it from her quickly. He puts it in the trunk of Amanda red convertible. Michael is leaving his black sedan in case Jimmy needs to go anywhere. Tracey and Jimmy stand next to me, watching their parents pack up. Trevor walks up behind me and puts an arm around my shoulders. Even though I'm not the one going on this trip, I'm extremely excited for them. Although they've lived a more privileged life these past ten years, I can guarantee they've never taken time out for themselves just like me and Trevor. 

"Ok, you kids stay out of trouble!" Michael says.

"We won't daddy! I promise!" Tracey tells her father.

"I was mainly talking to (your name) and Trevor, but that also applies to you and Jim," jeers Michael.

Amanda playfully hits him and then hugs her children goodbye. "We'll be back before you know it. Call me if you need anything." Amanda hugs me next. "I trust you to keep my children alive," she jokes, "thank you again for doing this."

"No problem at all. What are friends for? Now go have fun!" She walks over to the passenger side of her car and gets in. Michael starts the car up, messes with the radio, and then slowly leaves the driveway. He honks the horn and the four of us watching them leave wave goodbye to them. "Now that the parents are gone, let's go light the house on fire and do coke." I say plainly.

Trevor claps his hands together, "That sounds like a plan!"

"Are you guys serious? I don't think I can handle anything stronger than weed," Jimmy says nervously.

Tracey rolls her eyes, "She's kidding, you moron. Can we go shopping or something like that?"

"I don't see why not. It would do all of us some good to get out of the house and do something leisurely. Meet up with you boys later?" I say to Jimmy and Trevor.

"Yeah, me and Uncle T can kick it," Jimmy scratches his head, thinking of what to do with Trevor that won't end up in an arrest.

"Kick it? That's what the kids say now?" Trevor scoffs.

"You sound like my dad," Jimmy rolls his eyes.

Trevor puts Jimmy in a headlock and tussles his hair, "But I'm ten times the fun and without the self-loathing!"

Tracey and I laugh. "Don't do anything we wouldn't!" I tell them.

"No promises, cupcake!" Trevor says in true Trevor fashion. 

Jimmy and Trevor get into the Bodhi and Tracey and I get into her yellow Compact. Tracey fishes the keys out of her shorts pocket and hands them to me. "What do you say we go to Ponsonby's and then make a day of it at the Del Perro Pier?"

Tracey smiles excitedly, "Sounds amazing!"

-

"Ok, what do you think about this one?" Tracey runs out from the dressing room in a pale pink dress with spaghetti straps. It comes down just above her knees and has white piping.

"That is adorable! You look beautiful, Trace."

"I'm in love with it, but I don't have anywhere to wear it." She says annoyed.

"You can wear it on a shopping spree later in the week," I smile.

"Really?" She ask excitedly.

"Of course! While the parents are away, Tracey and I are out to play," I wink at her.

"God, I love you! I love mom and dad, but I wish they would be gone for like a month! By the way, I love that pencil skirt on you. You have to get it. And this." Tracey's back is to me and she picks up something off a table. She faces me and is holding up black and tan lace lingerie. The bra has a mesh panel in the front with an appliqué that is placed just well enough and it has a matching thong.

"Jesus, Trace. I don't know."

"Come on! Every girl likes to wear sexy underwear!" She tries to persuade me. "When was the last time you ever bought yourself something like this?"

"I was probably in high school," I sigh.

"Exactly, so you have to get this." Tracey forces the set into my hands.

"Is this really appropriate for you to be telling me to buy skimpy lingerie?" I smile awkwardly.

"You act like we can't be real with one another. You're like a second mom to me."

"Doesn't that make it more inappropriate?" I laugh.

"In a normal family, yes. But these are the De Santa's and Philips' we're talking about! Just buy them! Trevor will appreciate it," she says deviously. "If anything, save it for the wedding night."

I match her devious look. "I might just do that."

We both go back into the dressing rooms and change back into the clothes we arrived in. I come out of the dressing room with the pencil skirt and lingerie draped over my arm. Tracey comes out with the pastel pink dress on the hanger and goes back over to the rack where she found it. I go over to the rack and pull it off, draping it over my arm too. Tracey looks at me in confusion. I walk over to the register and a woman begins ringing me up. She first scans the dress and folds it neatly. Then she scans the pencil skirt, folding it, and placing it on top of the dress. Lastly she picks up the lingerie set, scans it, and sets it on top of the skirt. I notice some swimsuits off to the side. I grab a black top and bottom for myself and a hot pink pair for Tracey, adding it to our pile.

"I know this mesh looks like it'll rip after one wash, but I promise it's of the highest quality. We haven't had anyone come in for mending," the cashier says, referring to the lingerie, as she places all the items in a bag.

"Good to know because it's going to be put through a lot," Tracey smirks at the cashier, who looks at her in confusion. I give Tracey a look.

"Anyway, your total is $523," the naive cashier informs me. I hand her my card, which she swipes and then quickly hands back. Then she hands me the bag and wishes us a good rest of the day.

"You did not have to get me that dress," Tracey says seriously. "It was like insanely expensive!"

"You deserve the finest. Plus, it looked really cute on you. It's my job as the aunt to spoil you. Accept that fact!" I jokingly reassure her.

"You don't have to tell me twice, but thank you," she smiles timidly.

"That hot pink swimsuit is yours too. We'll change when we get to the pier."

"Sounds good to me!" 

-

Tracey and I get back into her car. I grab my bag from the backseat and dig out my phone. I have a couple missed calls from Jimmy. I open my phone as quickly as I can in a panicked matter. I can only imagine what kind of trouble those two got into during the past few hours Tracey and I were on the beach. I quickly dial Jimmy's number.

"Looks like your brother ran into some trouble with Trevor," I say to Tracey.

"Yeah, he called me too," she says, looking at her phone.

The phone rang a few times and then Jimmy finally picked up. "Hey, Jim. I just got to my phone. Is everything ok?"

"I'm fine, but some guys are giving Trevor shit about his accent," Jimmy says nervously.

"Fuck," I mumble to myself. "Ok, where are you guys?"

"We're downtown near the movie theater. Please come quick. I don't know what to do!"

"We're on our way. Try to distract the guys," I instruct Jimmy.

"Shouldn't I just try to keep Trevor out of trouble?" asks Jimmy.

"Jimmy, Trevor is like a dog with a bone. He'll only sink his teeth in deeper if you try to distract him from this particular situation. Look, Tracey and I are on our way. Sit tight. Ask the guys for directions or something. Just do something to distract from the situation."

-

I speed down the street as soon as I see the theater at the end of the street. I slam on the brakes and park right behind Trevor's truck. I see him and Jimmy. 

"Stay in the car," I tell Tracey. I get out and run over to Jimmy and Trevor, who are leaning against the wall of the theater. "What did I miss?"

Trevor laughs, "Jimmy's expert dancing skills." I look at Jimmy confused.

"You said to do something to distract from the situation," Jimmy says sheepishly.

"What did you do?" I ask.

"Well," Jimmy starts, "I figured if I was in this situation I'd leave someone alone if they or someone else did something really weird to freak me out."

"And?" I ask.

"I ran in between them, like this," Jimmy starts flailing his arms and making weird noises.

I start bursting into laughter. "I can only imagine what those guys were thinking!"

"They stopped, stared at me, called me a retard, and then walked off down the street. I think I handled the situation pretty well considering what could've happened."

"I agree! Thank you, Jimmy. We'll have to keep that trick up our sleeves for future reference. Let's go back to your house and just take it easy the rest of the night. And Trevor, I'm going to kill you if you don't quit getting into these little spats for a while."


	50. Flashback #15

"You get dressed and I'll meet you in the main area," I say to Trevor as I get out of bed and wrap myself in a sheet. 

When I get to his side of the bed, I kiss him. I slip into the bathroom quietly to freshen up. After that, I tie my hair up and look at myself in the mirror. The area around my eyes is purple. I haven't gotten proper rest in a long time. I didn't want to sleep. I was scared to sleep. Trevor could tell I wasn't myself, but I told him I wasn't ready to talk about it. I know he's beginning to feel used and like a distraction for me from my problems by the way I was throwing myself at him every night recently. He'd never complain about such a thing, but he was the kind of guy that wanted everything we do together to be special and mean something. 

I'm not being a very good partner. Not to Trevor. Not to the rest of our running buddies. I can't remember the last time I said two words to Michael or saw his face for more than five minutes because he's constantly with Amanda now. I'm somewhat grateful because it has bought me time to consider the big heist Lester told us about. Brad kept pressuring me to "ok" it, but I can't reach a final decision. I've been making it a point to avoid Brad. Lester was the last level-headed person I felt I could talk to, but he's been in the hospital for about a month. He made it very clear that no one is to visit him in case we're recognized. 

I don't know where to start with Trevor. He and I don't have time alone to talk like we used to. I feel like our group is dissolving, and I'm the glue that keeps it all together. Trevor would tell me that it isn't my responsibility and to let it fall apart if that's what happens, but I would never forgive myself if I let this group go. He told me he's been thinking about cutting Michael off because he and Brad can't get along. I'd rather cut Brad out than Michael, and Lester agreed with me when I shared Trevor's thought with him in confidence. Michael is smarter, more caring, and more reliable than Brad, but Trevor's personality clashes more with Michael. This is a huge disagreement between me and Trevor, and I haven't even shared my side with him.

I also haven't told Trevor that I had a miscarriage a couple weeks ago. It's caused me so much guilt and anxiety that I can't sleep. I haven't been the same since and I am pushing the one person that means everything to me away. I feel so incredibly guilty because I was the one that badgered him about being honest and open with one another. Our chance for normalcy just slipped through my fingers. When is the right time to tell your partner that? 

I peeked my head out of the bathroom door and saw that Trevor was no longer in the room. I walked back into the bedroom and got dressed. Then, I went out into the main area at our slaughterhouse base. Brad and Trevor were in the middle of a conversation.

Brad nodded at me, "Hey, (your name). Michael will be back soon. He's bringing over that stripper he's been seeing for us to meet her."

"He's bringing her here? To the base?" I asked, obviously dumb-founded.

"No, no. Just to town. We're going to meet them at an abandoned lot a few blocks down and have a bonfire," Brad informs me.

"Oh," I reply. I look at Trevor, who gives me an awkward forced smile, and then looks away. "Well, I'm excited to meet her. They seem to really be in love."

Brad chuckled, "What gave it away? That he's never here and hasn't been participating in as many stick-ups?"

"Something like that," I sighed.

"He's going soft," Trevor interjected.

"Anymore of that beer?" I ask, pointing to the can in Brad's hand and ignoring Trevor's statement. I was determined to keep the peace.

"Yeah, I'll go downstairs and grab you one."

The room is uncomfortably silent. I look to Trevor again, who is staring off in the distance. He doesn't seem as uncomfortable as I am. I suppose this was the universe giving me an opportunity to come clean, but it didn't feel right with Brad here. I am so embarrassed that I want it to stay between me and Trevor whenever I decide to tell him. "So," I begin, trying to ease the tension I feel.

"Heads up," Brad says as he comes back in the room and tosses the can at me. "Michael just texted me that we should start heading over to the hangout lot."

I pop the can of beer open, take a couple sips, and follow Brad downstairs and into the car. Trevor and I sit in the backseat, and he acts as if nothing is wrong. I guess nothing is wrong for him. It's me. I'm the one with the problem and he is waiting it out for me to say something meaningful to him. It's killing me to feel so dissociated. I slide over closer to him so that our legs are touching and I rest my head on his shoulder. He puts an arm around me, but doesn't say anything to me the entire drive over. 

Michael's car is already at the lot and we see that they have already started the bonfire. Brad goes on ahead of us. Trevor holds the door open for me to get out and closes it behind me. We walk over and see the same brunette girl we saw the night we celebrated at the strip club. Brad utters some kind of distasteful greeting to her.

"Hi," I say as I stand in front of Michael and his girlfriend. "I'm (your name). I'm a friend of Michael's. This is Trevor," I point to him and he does a little wave before shoving his hand back into his coat pocket. "We're together."

"Oh good! I'd feel awkward if Michael and I were the only couple here," says Amanda.

"Yeah, now Brad is the only one that will feel weird! He's basically fifth-wheeling."

Amanda laughs and Michael smiles at how seamlessly her and I are beginning to get along. "So," she starts, "I want to get all the awkwardness out of the way by saying Michael told me about what you guys do."

"What?" I look at Michael.

"Oh, I'm ok with it. In fact, I'm glad he was honest." says Amanda.

"Why would you do that, you stupid fuck?" Trevor asks Michael. Amanda stares at Trevor nervously.

"Calm down, T. She won't tell nobody," Michael shoots him a look as to not embarrass him in front of her.

"I'll trust you, Michael, but you could've asked us if we were ok with that," I say.

"Ok, I can understand that. That was my bad." Michael says.

"I didn't mean to start anything," Amanda adds.

"Oh no, you didn't start anything, Amanda. Those two love to pick a fight whenever they can, but they're really best friends," I try to smooth things over.

"Good! I didn't want to be 'that girl'."

"No, that role is already filled by my Trevor," I laugh. Amanda laughs too, and immediately all awkwardness is alleviated. "Why don't we let the boys hash it out and we'll go be rational over there?"

"Sounds wonderful," Amanda smiles warmly. I just have a feeling her and I could be great friends.


	51. Franklin

As we turn onto the street of the address Michael gave us, Trevor and I look at each other, wondering where the garage was. "Maybe turn down here," I point to an alley way, "It could sit off the street."

"In that case, this just might work perfectly if we do end up storing anything here," Trevor says enthusiastically. As he drives further down the alley, we see a younger guy wiping down a white Buffalo. Trevor and I get out of the truck. "You Franklin?" Trevor asks.

"Yeah, I'll take it you're Trevor and (your name)?" Franklin and Trevor shake hands. 

"That would be us. Did Michael give you a run-down of the job?" asks Trevor.

"He did, but he was real vague on the details. He figured it would be better if you two hooked me up with the details; it being your job and all." Franklin shifted his weight to his other foot.

"Well how do you feel about making drops and pick-ups for a drug and arms ring?" Trevor asked straight-forwardly.

Franklin chuckled, "If there's paper to back it up, I'll do it. I trust Michael won't lead me down the wrong path."

"In time, you'll trust us too. We look after all our friends." I say. "All we ask is that you pick up packages and leave some occasionally in remote places. There may be guys that have eyes on the drop or pick-up places, so you'll have to be wary of that."

"Alright. Nothing I ain't familiar with. Also, I don't know if Mike told you or not, but feel free to store stuff in my garages. I've got a couple around town that are just sitting empty."

"Thank you, Franklin. We might just take you up on that!" I say kindly.

"No problem. I look out for my people too," he smiles. "Just hit me up when a job arises."

"We will, and just so you're aware, you're our only guy making runs in the city. We're just starting our branch out here. We started it up in Blaine County. Ever been there?" Trevor asks.

"Can't say that I have, but I've heard a lot of interesting stories about it."

"Yeah, it is an interesting place," Trevor places his hands on his hips. "Anyway, let us know if you need extra guys to help you with runs. We'll just see how things fall into place."

"Sounds good," Franklin shakes hands with Trevor.

"Nice to meet you, Franklin," I say. "Michael has assured us you won't let us down."

"Nice to meet you too. I hope I can live up to that," he says humbly.

Trevor and I get back into the truck and onto the road. "He seems very nice and trustworthy." I note.

"We'll see how he is on a job, however, he does seem responsible. For once, Michael came through," Trevor says.

"Don't be like that! Michael has helped us a lot since we've known him," I say. I can see the look on Trevor's face. "Yes, Trevor! I know he's also done some shitty stuff too, but I know he feels guilty and is really trying to make up for it. You have to let him though."

"I'm doing my best, cupcake. Are you hungry?"

"Always," I laugh.

"Alright, let's go have lunch. We can bring something back for Jimmy and Tracey."

-

"This is nice," I say as I take a bite out of my burger. "We haven't eaten out just the two of us in a long time."

"I know. That's my fault. Ugh," he grumbles in a satisfied way and talks with his mouth full, "I miss sitting across a table from your beautiful face."

I smile widely and laugh at him being a slob. "We have nothing but time now, so you better make up for it! On a side note, when are you going to give Franklin his first job?"

"Right now," he says as he takes another bite of his burger.

"What?" I ask in shock. Trevor pulls out his phone, types a few things, and laughs to himself. He turns his phone screen to me. "You're telling him to pick up a brick of cocaine from Jock Cranley's house? You're such an ass," I can't help but laugh. "What are you going to do when he isn't able to do it and gets arrested?"

"I thought you had more faith in Franklin!" Trevor jokes.

I roll my eyes. "I'm going to go place a take out order for Jimmy and Tracey so you can sit alone and think about your behavior, mister," I joke back.

-

I flip the page of a magazine that I'm not really reading, just looking at the pictures and occasionally reading a caption. I'm pretty sure Trevor is asleep on the pool lounge chair that we're both sitting on. I'm sitting in between his legs, that are sprawled around me. Every now and again, his right leg twitches. I turn to look at him. I take his wayfarers off his face and see that his eyes are closed. He's asleep, he doesn't need them. So, I put his sunglasses on. I turn back to my magazine.

"Jesus! The sun is melting my corneas!" Trevor wakes up suddenly. "Where'd my sunglasses go?!"

I turn slightly so he can see my profile. "I'm not sure," I smile.

Trevor takes them off of me and kisses me on the cheek. "When you fall asleep with them on, you expect to wake up with them on. I was looking right at the sun when I woke up!"

"Well don't do that anymore, Trev," I joke.

Trevor sits up and wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his head on my shoulder. "Whatcha readin' there?" 

"I'm not really reading it. Just skimming through. There are more interesting things to worry about than Poppy Mitchell's sex tape." I say.

Trevor's phone begins to ring. He pulls it out of his pocket and looks at the screen. "It's Franklin," he said.

"Answer it!" I say excitedly.

"Hello?! (Your name)?!" I hear coming from the opened dining room doors.

"Sounds like Tracey's home. I'll be right back," I say to Trevor who replies in a nod.

"Hey, Trace!" I greet her as I walk into the dining room and then into the kitchen, where she is scouring the fridge. "How were your classes?"

"Really good! I think I might actually have a shot at a B in biology," she replies proudly.

"Thats great! Oh, by the way, theres a burger and some fries in there. One is for you and the other is for your brother," I inform her.

"You are the best!" She exclaims. "It's that time of the month and I would kill for something greasy!"

I laugh and turn to go back out to the pool. Trevor takes the phone away from his ear, clicks a button, and puts his phone back in his pocket. "You're never going to believe this!" He yells to me as I come back outside.

"Good news or bad news?"

"Great news! He did it and even called me from an outside line! This kid is turning out to be quite the prize. I wasn't even sure there was coke at that guy's house. I probably should've assumed there would be," Trevor rambles in disbelief. 

"Well, I guess we know for sure that we have a good guy on our books now."


	52. Flashback #16

I made myself a cup of tea in the small kitchenette at the slaughterhouse base. Michael came up beside me and grabbed a cup out of the cabinet. He smiled at me excitedly and filled the cup up with water from the tap. I smiled back at him, bu then quickly looked at him out of confusion. I'd never seen him this excited. Not even about our last heist at a jewelry store in the next town over. We probably just needed one more good job to be able to leave North Yankton, but Michael never mentioned leaving this shithole. We all assumed he didn't want to discuss the idea of skipping town and leaving Amanda behind. 

Even I was starting to get annoyed by those two. Amanda had become a good friend of mine, but she was distracting Michael. At the last couple of jobs, Michael nearly forgot to do crucial aspects. At the last job, he almost forgot to cut the security footage and take all the tapes. How do you even forget that when it's the biggest point on your to-do list? Trevor was beyond annoyed and kept mentioning that he thought Michael was "going soft". I hate to say that I think I might agree with Trevor. Brad was never the best of friends with Michael, but even he had to save Michael's ass a few times on the last couple of jobs. I didn't want Trevor to be right about Michael being the one that should be cut off, but it's looking that way.

"What has you so happy?" I ask Michael.

"Amanda's coming over," Michael smiled stupidly.

"I should've known." I sighed and took a sip from my cup as I walked off into the main area. I sat next to Trevor on the raggedy couch in the middle of the room. He and Brad were laughing about something and Lester was typing away on his laptop. Trevor put his arm around me and pulled me closer, kissing me on the temple. "Ow! That mustache has got to go, Trev," I said as I rubbed my temple.

"Why do you have to hate on it so much?!" He threw his arms up.

"Because it feels like being hit in the face with a bush! If you want to experiment with facial hair, then just grow a five o'clock shadow and go from there." I teased him.

"At least let me keep it through no-shave November," he pleaded.

I rolled my eyes, "Fine, but once it hits December the 'stache goes!" Brad laughed at how childish we were being.

Just then, Amanda walks into the room. As if in a movie, her and Michael's eyes meet across the room. He nearly trips trying to make it over to her. "Hey, sweetie. Glad you made it over ok."

"It's basically a straight drive here, plus a right turn," Amanda says to Michael. 

She was bundled in long coat and a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. I became quickly aware what this odd-for-a-modern-woman's-fashion was all about. I had overheard Michael on the phone in the next room one night. At some point, I hear him say Amanda's name and something about how johns are supposed to pay upfront. Another night, I heard him trying to console her and telling her that if it's really what she thinks would help, he would pay for her breast implants. Michael is pimping out his own girlfriend. Classy. As abnormal as I found this, I couldn't say too much. I was robbing and sticking up places with my boyfriend.

Michael placed a hand on Amanda's back as he stood beside her, facing me, Trevor, Brad, and Lester. "Amanda and I have something we want to share with all of you." Amanda stands next to Michael stiffly. "Amanda is five months pregnant and we're getting married," Michael says as he shifts eye contact with everyone, trying to include us all in his news.

Trevor's previously cheery mood fades along with the smile on his face. Brad just kind of scoffs and eyes Amanda, trying to spot the baby bump we somehow missed. 

Lester stops typing on his computer. "Well, congratulations to the both of you. Both parenthood and marriage are difficult roads, or so I've heard," Lester tries to make light of an awkward situation. All of us were probably thinking and wondering the same things.

I place my cup on a cardboard box in front of the couch that we used as a coffee table and stood up. "Congratulations," I tried to muster excitement, "I'm so happy for the both of you." 

I very nearly choked up at the end of my sentence. I quickly left the room and went into Trevor's and my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and sat on the edge of the bed. I don't know if anyone noticed, but I was determined to go on as if nothing happened. I'll walk out in a few minutes and act as if I just had to use the bathroom. It's no use. Tears start streaming down my face. I try to wipe them off on my sleeve, but they just keep coming. If I walked out there, they'd see that my eyes are red and puffy. 

I hear the door crack open behind me and squeal as it's opened wider. There is an absence of light as the door shuts again. Familiar footsteps come to my side of the bed and Trevor sits down next to me. I can tell he wasn't expecting me to be crying because he looks as if his heart is breaking. He starts gently rubbing my back and doesn't say anything for a bit.

"I'm not happy about it either," he begins, "but this doesn't have to be the end. He seems eager to stay in the group. It brings in good income, an income they'll need if they're going to have a kid."

I laugh, but not because that's funny. I laughed because he doesn't get it. "It's not just that, Trevor." I sniffle.

He doesn't say anything for a bit again. "I know you've been scared to tell me something. I can just tell. I just want you to know," he pauses, thinking of the best wording, "whatever it is will not change us." He stresses the last word.

"Don't say things like that when you don't know what's coming," I exhale, trying to keep from sobbing.

"Is there someone else?" He asks me in a nervous whisper.

"No, of course not, Trevor!" I start crying even harder and bury my face in my hands.

Trevor scootches closer to me on the bed and takes me into his arms. "That's the worst thing I can imagine," he says, resting his chin on the top of my head, " So if it's not that, then what are you so worried about? I'll always be by your side no matter what. You just have to trust me."

I look up into his eyes. "That could've been us," I say plainly.

"That will be us. You know I want to marry you eventually, but I want to get you out of this town and into a life you deserve first," Trevor says, ignorant of what I meant.

"No," I close my eyes, trying to disconnect.

"I don't think I follow then," he says confusedly. 

I grab his hand tightly, "Trevor," I look into his innocent brown eyes, "I miscarried about a month and a half ago."

Trevor exhaled as if a weight was lifted off him, but the sadness of a loss replaced it. He looked down at the floor, searching for words of comfort. He was at a loss. He looked at me again and grabbed me, pulling me tightly against him. I felt weightless with this burden now with someone who matters and cares.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asks softly, trying to show he isn't mad.

"I didn't know how you would take it," I answered honestly.

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" 

"I didn't know until it was too late."

"I-I don't understand," he tries to make sense of it, but I can't help him. I still couldn't figure it out myself.

"I was about two months late, but I'm always irregular so I didn't think anything of it. Next thing I know, I'm puking my guts out and in excruciating pain." I go silent for a few seconds. "There was so much blood," I say quietly," I had to clean up a pool of it and I must've showered three times that day."

Trevor sits with his head in his hands. "Did you go to a doctor?"

"Yes, I finally did recently. I know that was risky, but I had to. I was scared." I tell him. "I'm sorry I went behind your back."

"No," Trevor says. "I'm glad you went." He pushes himself back onto the bed and lays back. "Come here," he motions to me. I crawl over to him, laying down with my head on his chest. He puts his arm around me, holding me close.

I start crying again, "It's my fault."

"Hey," he starts, "Why would you say something like that?"

"Because it's true! We're so busy that we can't focus on our health. I should've known something was wrong and I should've stayed off my feet. Instead, I was sticking up that bank."

"You didn't know. Give yourself a break. I'm the one that should be giving myself a hard time. How did I not notice? What was I doing when this was going on?"

"It was an off day. You, me, Lester, and Brad were trying to decide on a plan for the jewelry store heist. I kept making excuses to go into the bedroom, but I was really throwing up in the bathroom and cleaning up blood. I've felt so much guilt about not telling you everything, but I didn't want anyone else to know. There was never a good time to tell you this kind of news."

"What made you tell me now?" He asked.

"It feels unfair to me that we've been together longer and are more faithful to each other, but Michael and Amanda are so easily getting double what half that was so difficult for us to obtain."

Trevor sits up and holds each of my arms in each of his hands. "Listen to me, (your name). I would not have it any other way. I'm just thankful that you're ok and still with me now. That's all I want. Yes, I'm upset about this, but I love the life we have together right now and I love you. I'm happy either way." He smiles and then squeezes me tightly, kissing me on the top of my head. "Plus, I don't think I'm ready to share you."

"Trevor!" I laugh. "You're awful! I never would've thought you could make me laugh about this." A knock comes on the door. I sniffle, clear my throat, and wipe my eyes.

"Yes?!" Trevor yells. 

Brad peeks his head in the door. "Michael can tell we're all a little caught off-guard. He wants to discuss the future of the group, as a group."

"Ok, we'll be right out. Just give us a second," Trevor tells him. Brad leaves and shuts the door. "Fuck! I really don't want to go out there," Trevor groans. 

"We have to," I say to him, "even though this is a hasty decision on their part, we have to be supportive. Man up, Philips!" I tease.

"Yes, ma'am!" He says jokingly as he gets to his feet. 

I walk back out to the main area, followed by Trevor. We sit back down on the sofa across from Michael and Amanda. Lester had wheeled himself over to the sitting area. Brad sat on the far end of the sofa. Once we're all seated, Michael begins by telling us this isn't the end of our group. He says he's still going to run with us, but he has to be more careful now.He suggests that we go after the big heist for several reasons: it will give him and Amanda enough money to elope and buy a decent house and the rest of us can afford to move as well. They try to convince me that this will benefit me too. I'm still against it as of right now. It feels too much like a double-or-nothing deal and none of us are in the position to risk that. Trevor keeps telling them to knock it off with the cheap persuasion attempts on me. The boys end up screaming at each other a few times and then we all end up going to our own rooms like a bunch of angsty teenagers.

Doing these jobs is what makes me feel in control, but I have a gut feeling that this big heist is bad news. When Lester advises against a job, there's more to lose than gain. Lester has advised against jobs before, but this job has its hooks in the guys. They won't let it go until I agree to it. It's all of our only chance at a drastically better life.


	53. Flashback #17

Trevor leans over and whispers in my ear, "They're going to know we're in North Yankton."

"It'll be fine, "I whisper back, "the trail will go cold here. Besides, I'm still not saying yes to it." 

"I can't believe how fucking stupid-"

"Hey!" I cut Trevor off. "Watch your language around Tracey!"

"She's a baby for christ's sake. She doesn't even know who we are, or who Michael and Amanda are for that matter."

"I know, but you need to practice behaving yourself before she's old enough to retains things." I look down at her in my arms. "And I don't believe she doesn't know who we are. She has to know that Michael and Amanda are her parents because she sees them most. She knows Aunt (your name). Don't you, sweetheart?" I move the blanket down a little so her face is more visible. She smiles widely. "See? And you also know Uncle Trevor, don't you?" I tilt her up so she can look at him and I smile as I watch her look Trevor over. She smiles again and fidgets. I see him smile slightly. "I saw that! You love this!"

"I plead the fifth," Trevor smirks and looks back at Michael and Amanda, who are exchanging the rings.

Michael looks truly happy. He grins and his cheeks are red with passion for Amanda. He slides a gold diamond wedding band over her finger to match her gold diamond engagement ring. She begins to say her vows and slides a ring onto Michael's finger. They look as though no one else in the world is there. The magistrate tells Michael that he can kiss the bride, to which he grabs Amanda around the waist gently and she wraps her arms around him. They kiss and then look at each other lovingly. Trevor makes a gagging noise. I shoot him a dirty look and slap him on the arm. Michael and Amanda mouth "thank you," to me. The sudden movement bothers Tracey. I start to rock her and she goes back to her once calm state.

"You're a natural with her," Trevor says softly.

"I guess girls just get girls," I say jokingly.

"(Your name)?" I hear Michael call me. I look over and he waves me over.

"Can you hold her for a second, T?" I don't wait for him to answer. 

"Please don't, (your name). She's going to start crying and I'm not going to know what to do." Trevor begs.

"I have to go. I'll be gone for only a few minutes. If she does cry, just rock her and talk to her quietly."

Michael, Amanda, and I are all ushered into a room with a table and a couple chairs. Michael and Amanda sit together on one side. The magistrate sits on the other side of the tables, and I take the empty seat next to her. The magistrate signs her name and fills out the rest of the paperwork. Then, she tells Michael and Amanda to sign their names on the lines she marked and "x" next to. They do so with a smile. Lastly, the magistrate slides the paper over to me and tells me to sign on the line with the word "witness" just below it. 

"There's two lines for two witnesses," I note aloud.

"Yes, Michael and Amanda will need to pick a second witness," says the magistrate.

Michael quickly looks at Amanda and says, "Trevor?" You could tell by the look on his face that it would mean the world to Michael if Trevor could also be a part of this.

"Trevor," she smiles back at Michael.

"I can go get him," I say. I walk back out to the small chapel area, where Trevor is sitting on a bench. I watch him rocking Tracey and whispering things to her with a gentle look on both of their faces. "Trevor?" I say quietly.

He looks up at me quickly, "Oh, uh, yeah?"

"They need a second witness. They want you to do it."

"Really?" He says as he stand, careful not to disturb Tracey. 

"Yes, and I'll take her," I say reaching out for Michael and Amanda's newborn.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" Brad shouted.

"Just sit tight. All Trevor has to do is sign his name and then we'll all be out of here," I tell him.

"What are you in a hurry for anyway?" Lester says to Brad.

Trevor and I disappear into the room with the table and chairs. Michael hands Trevor the pen and the magistrate points to the line. Trevor leans over onto the table and signs his name. He caps the pen and throws it down onto the table. 

"Congratulations!" I said.

"Thank you!" Michael and Amanda both said collectively.

"Yeah, congratulations, Mikey," Trevor scratches his head.

"Thanks, man," Michael replies. Trevor and Michael quickly grab each other into a hug and pat each other's backs emotionally.

"I'm gonna miss you, you fat snake!" Trevor says, sounding choked up.

"I'm not going anywhere, T. I just have a wife and child now. I'm still running with you guys."

"That's what you think! Before you know it, we'll all become strangers." Trevor grits his teeth.

"That'll never happen," Michael assures him. Trevor and Michael quickly remember there are three other people in the room and release each other.

"Oh, and congrats to you too, Amanda," Trevor says.

"Thanks, Trevor," she says awkwardly. She looks at me and we both smirk.

-

I sit at a card table with a mirror propped up on it that I made into a make-shift vanity. I began to pull pins out of my hair and place them neatly on the table. In the mirror, I could see Trevor behind me looking up at the grungy ceiling. I could tell that Michael's life changes felt like the end for Trevor. He was convinced we would have to go on without Michael. Michael told us numerous times he didn't want to quit. 

As reluctant as Trevor had been to have Michael as a friend, those two have grown on each other. They're the best of friends and every decision one of them makes, affects the other as well. Trevor's defense mechanism is to push someone away when he thinks someone else is going to push him away. He convinces himself that he doesn't matter, so why should he care? As sad as this sounds, it was how he learned to deal with abandonment as a child. It isn't really his fault, but he doesn't see that.

"What are you thinking about over there, handsome?" I finally ask.

"They really are entitles assholes aren't they?" He answers plainly.

"What?"

"Michael and Amanda, they really do get everything they want and what they don't have, they find a way to get it without thinking about the rest of us."

"Where is this coming from Trev?" I ask with confusion.

He sits upright, "When we first met Mike, we had to clean up a problem for him. Then, he meets that stripper and spends all his time with her instead of helping with the heist plans. She gets everything she wants with his money. He bought her new tits, (your name), so she could make more money fucking whoever the hell she wants! That is beyond fucked! And then, he knocks her up and marries her!" Trevor exhales and falls over onto the bed dramatically.

"They're happy together. Why are you so angry about that?" 

Trevor thinks for a couple seconds. "It's not that. I'm just so annoyed with the sense of entitlement, but he loves to go on and on about how he didn't have a privileged upbringing."

"You're saying Michael is a hypocrite?" 

"Yes! He is a hypocrite!" Trevor yells.

I can't help but laugh. "Trevor, I think this goes deeper than you think."

"Are you going to psychoanalyze me now?" He says rhetorically.

"You know what? Yes. I don't think you're really angry. I think you feel like Michael doesn't appreciate you. That's coming out as you being angry because Michael had a better upbringing as you. I think that makes you think Michael doesn't care about what you had to go through and the experiences that shaped you."

Trevor sits on the edge of the bed, looking completely lost. "You should've finished college and been a psychologist."

"If I did that, I don't think any of my patients could keep me as occupied with psychoanalyzing as you." I laugh and Trevor jokingly mimics my laughter.

"It's not just that though. I feel like I had to work and fight so hard for everything. I feel like I'm never good enough to catch a break," Trevor sighs and rubs his face. "I know I'm not 'good', but I don't know how to be any other way. I feel like I'm being punished because of the way I am, and that worries me because of you."

"What do you mean?" I ask, sitting beside him on the bed.

"I don't want my shit to affect you. I don't want it to get you hurt or make you feel like you don't matter," He says.

"I never feel that way because of you and how you are. You've always made me your first priority. Yeah, you can do some pretty bad things, but you're honest, loyal, and truly devoted to those you care about. That's why our relationship is so beautiful and that's why you feel hurt in your friendship with Michael. Michael doesn't always seem like he reciprocates because you both have different dynamics."

"Lay off already! My mind has been fucked hard enough!"

I laugh and hug him. "Ok, I'll take it easy."

We sit in silence for a few minute when Trevor blurts out, "I'll admit I'm kind of jealous."

I look at him, "I can't believe I just heard Trevor Philips admit jealousy, but whatever for?"

"Are you kidding me? They've been together for like a year and a half and we've been together for five. It really pisses me off that they got married before us."

"They probably felt like they had to because she was pregnant with Tracey," I try to comfort him.

"Don't get me started on the kid," he scoffs.

"Oh hush," I roll my eyes, "you secretly love Tracey as much as I do."


	54. Old Habits

I walk around Amanda and Michael's house with a black trash bag, picking bits of debris and trash off the floor. Michael knew better than to have Trevor stay at his house. I know he didn't forget what living with him is like. It's a miracle the trailer in Sandy Shores is still standing and that the new house here in LS has stayed relatively clean. I think Trevor is finally starting to understand how hard we've worked for all of this and to respect it a little more, but old habits die hard. So, I'm going to have to find the cleaning supplies and scrub what looks like dried blood out of the rug and tile.

I find a scrub brush and a small bucket under the sink. I fill the bucket with water from the sink and end up adding a little bit of bleach to it. I don't even want to begin to think about what the stains on the floor actually are. Either way, I don't want Michael and Amanda to see them when they get back in a few days and I don't want the maid to have to deal with it. The stains will set before she arrives back here on Monday. I get on my hands and knees and start scrubbing the stain in the rug aggressively. 

"Mmmm," I hear Trevor grunt behind me seductively. 

He startles me. When I look behind me, I realize he was staring at my ass while I was scrubbing the floor. "Where did you come from?"

"Upstairs," he says, "I just woke up."

"Do I even want to know what this is in the rug" I gesture vaguely to the stain.

He looks at it for a split second and thinks hard about everything he did during the last week and a half. "Jam?" He says in an unsure way. I roll my eyes and go back to scrubbing. After a few seconds, Trevor grumbles to himself, "Good lord above."

"Are you going to stand there all day and watch me?" I ask sarcastically, not stopping my attempt to clean the rug. He doesn't answer, so I assume he is ignoring me or is engrossed in whatever I left on the tv projector in front of me. All of a sudden, I feel his warm hands on my hips. This causes me to drop the scrub brush. He forcefully pulls me backwards, towards him. "What are you doing?" I ask sternly, but just above a whisper. "Tracey and Jimmy are upstairs."

"And?" He smirks deviously. "Jimmy can't hear you over his video games and he stays in his room all day. Tracey is in her room and on the phone with a friend. She could be busy for a few hours." Trevor grabs the remote off the white sectional and turns the volume up on the tv.

"You don't know that. She likes to wander around the house sometimes when she gets on the phone," I try to talk some sense into him.

"Ok, does it really look like I give a fuck, crazy cakes?" He glances down and then looks at me again. I look down and smile at him. "Keep looking at me like that and you're not going to have a choice in a second."

"Hold on a second," I stand up and run upstairs.

He yells after me, "Where are you going?!"

I don't answer him as I'm already halfway up the stairs. I turn and dart into the spare bedroom where Trevor and I are staying. I slip off my shorts and change into a skirt. I walk by Tracey's room and peek through the crack in the door. She's laying across the bed on her stomach, talking loudly on the phone. I could hear Jimmy across the hall yelling over the gunfire in his video game. Trevor was right; they're both engrossed in their own activities. I run back down the steps and look over to see Trevor sitting on the floor, watching the tv. I stand in the threshold, where he was earlier, and he looks over. He smiles at my wardrobe change, remembering what it used to mean. 

I slowly walk over to him and stand in front of him. He looks up at me from the floor. He places his hands on my legs and runs them up, even past my skirt, and pulls my underwear down. I step out of them and he tosses them to the side. I try to keep a mental note he did that so no one but me or him finds them. He stands and grabs me around the waist, picking me up and dropping me on Michael and Amanda's crisp white sectional. He gently climbs onto the couch and kisses me slowly. I undo the button and zipper on his jeans. 

This is an obvious motivation for him. He kisses me again, but a little more rough this time. I can hear his breathing getting heavier. I place a hand on his stomach and drag it down his body. When I get to the waistline of his jeans, I plunge my hand into his underwear. He gasps. I take my hand out, teasing him. He reaches back down. Then he picks me up and lifts me down onto him. He digs his finger tips into my hips and started to move so roughly, I had to grasp onto the couch behind him to brace myself somewhat.

He put a hand of his on my cheek and kissed me. Then, he wrapped an arm around me and laid me down on the couch. I could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Not that he doesn't usually, but when you get older you tend to keep it in the bedroom. We were both enjoying this risky behavior. As much as I was enjoying this too, I couldn't help but think about pulling a heist. I miss it already. I remember one heist specifically. It required a lot of waiting. Lester didn't trust Trevor to not become bored and distracted, so he put me with him to keep him focused. We waited in a warehouse for Michael to communicate a signal to us over a radio. I ended up being more of a distraction because Trevor and I both got bored. So, we turned off the radio and fucked on some poor guy's desk. Afterwards, we turned the radio back on and Michael, Brad, and Lester were none-the-wiser; the rest of the heist went swimmingly. The thought of this made me bite my lip and dig my nails into Trevor's back in pleasure.

This noticeably got a rise out of Trevor. He made soft grunting noises and kisses me passionately. Right as he gets me to the edge, he finishes. He grabs me up and pulls me against him tightly, sending me over the edge. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him back. I get up and sit next to him, trying to recompose myself. I ran my fingers through my hair, readjusted my shirt, and straightened my skirt. Trevor panted beside me with his jeans still unbuttoned.

"Jesus fucking christ," he exhaled. "I love you."

"Of course you do," I laugh. "I love you too, Trev."

I kiss him on the cheek and make my way back upstairs into the guest bedroom. I grab a change of clothes and go into the bathroom. I wipe myself down and sit over the toilet for a few seconds to clean myself up and I can't help trying to think up a new heist to do. Maybe Michael is still in touch with Lester. That is, if Lester is still alive. That's a morbid thought that's very uncomfortable for me to think about, so I try to shake it from my mind. I put on the fresh set of clothes and take the dirty ones to the bedroom.

Downstairs, Trevor is already watching tv again. I sit next to him without saying anything. I look down at the stain in the rug and exhale defeatedly. The stain faded, but it probably needs to be washed. I decide I'll worry about it some other time. I push myself back into the sofa and against Trevor, laying my head on his shoulder. He kisses the top of my head and moves his arm from the top of the sofa to around me.

I hear somebody coming down the steps. I look out into the hall and see Tracey coming down the staircase. She comes into the living room. "What are we doing today?" She asks as she plops down on the sofa next to me.

"What do you want to do?" I ask her.

"Shopping, maybe," she suggests.

"Do you think Jimmy would want to do that?" I ask rhetorically.

"No, but who cares?"

"I feel like we should all do something together today. Go get your brother and put on some shoes." I tell her. She goes back into the hall and up the stairs. 

I put on my shoes that were in the little hallway in front of the garage door, next to the kitchen. I go back in the living room with Trevor and shut off the tv. "Come on, let's go do something with Jimmy and Tracey."

-

"Ugh, you're so fucking annoying!" Tracey screams at her brother.

"Yeah? Well you're a bitch!" Jimmy says.

"Hey, you two! I don't know what happened since we left the house, but you two need to cut it out." I say to both of them.

"She started it!" Jimmy says childishly.

"It doesn't matter who started it! You played a part!" I tell Jimmy. "Trevor, take us to the Del Perro Pier," I demand.

"What are we going to do there? Drown those two?" He asks jokingly.

"I think it would do them good to be in the presence of something beautiful and be forced to talk to one another," I say.

"Oh, I'm sure that'll go well," Trevor scoffs.

"You'll be surprised," I said to him.

-

"Here," I say as I hand Jimmy and Tracey an ice cream. Trevor is sitting off to the side, looking like the sun is baking him alive. I sit next to him. We were close enough to talk to Jimmy and Tracey, but far away enough that we could have our own conversations and it not be awkward. 

"So what is your master plan for them exactly?" He asks me. 

"When you look out at the ocean and you see how vast it is, it makes you feel so insignificant. You can watch people out on boats or just swimming, which makes some people think about what they're doing. I'm hoping they subconsciously do that and have a meaningful conversation with each other. Their dad always loved looking out at the ocean. Hopefully his genetics come through somewhere."

"Yeah, 'hopefully'," Trevor laughs. Trevor and I both suddenly notice how quiet Jimmy and Tracey have been. We both look over and they both have tears in their eyes and they're hugging each other. "What the hell is going on over there?!" Trevor shouts.

"We're just talking about mom and dad," Tracey says all choked up.

"What about them?" I ask.

"It wasn't easy to grow up with them as parents. They cheated and argued, and cheated and argued again. They just like never seemed happy, so Jimmy and I were just saying we were never really that happy," she says.

"We didn't want them to get a divorce or anything because we didn't want to be 'those' kids, but a lot of the time we wished they would just get a divorce. No one else would be able to understand our fucked up family dynamic though, so what good would a divorce do?" Jimmy added.

"What the fuck was in that ice cream you gave them?" Trevor whispered to me.

"I don't know," I laughed, "but I want some."

"It's like kind of overwhelming to live like that for years and we both agree that it's gotten majorly better recently," says Tracey.

"We think that you two showing up again puts dad back where he should be mentally and mom feels like she got someone back that she can actually talk to," Jimmy said.

"I doubt it was us. Your father practically shit a brick when he saw us," I say humbly.

"No," Tracey begins to clarify, "like you guys don't understand how much you both meant to dad. It sounds so crazy, but you guys like made him sane again."


	55. Michael and Amanda's Arrival

Tracey, Jimmy, Trevor, and I all were out by the pool. Jimmy was swimming, Tracey was sunbathing, Trevor and I sat underneath the palm trees with our pants rolled up so we could put our feet in the water. We could hear the automatic gate in the front roll back. I grabbed Trevor's arm and looked at his digital watch. It was a little after noon. We weren't expecting Michael and Amanda home this early.Tracey made eye contact with her brother and then they both darted around the side of the house to the front. Trevor got up and then helped me up. 

We walked around to the from, where we saw Tracey and Jimmy hugging their mom and dad. I followed suit and hugged Amanda and then Michael. "What are you two doing here?! We weren't expecting you until later this evening!"

"We figured we might as well leave early or else the rest of the day will feel like we're waiting around to leave, and honestly we started feeling a little homesick. Two weeks is much longer than you think," Amanda informed me.

"Well, I hope you two had a great time." I say.

"Oh, we did. It was much needed. Thank you for watching the house and the kids. I was worried leaving them with Trevor in their vicinity," Michael laughed.

Trevor mimicked Michael's laugh, "They're fine! We all had a great time! No one caught an STD, so it's a successful job in my opinion."

"That's why I was worried, T. Your definition of successful is set by incredibly low standards," Michael said.

"I recommend it. You'd be a lot happier," Trevor replied.

"Anyway," Amanda changes the topic, "I managed to get the rest of the planning done for the wedding. I thought we could go over them and then set a date."

"Sounds good," I tell her. "The boys can get the luggage out of the car."

Amanda, Tracey, Jimmy, and I walk back around the house. Jimmy and Tracey stay out by the pool while Amanda props open the back doors to the dining room. We take a seat at the dining table. She puts her tote on the table and slides out a binder. I have to admit that overwhelmed me. She flips past all the stuff we had previously decided together. "Here it is," she starts. "I found everything that fits what we talked about. I called a couple different venues to see if they were available."

"Did you relax at all during the trip?" I asked her sarcastically.

"Yes! That's all I did. Don't think this was work. This is fun for me to plan!" She reassures me.

"I know what I like, but let's wait for the boys to come back downstairs so Trevor can look," I say to her.

Amanda smiles, but then it fades. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I say.

"Did it upset you that Michael and I got married so quickly?" She asked.

"Amanda, why would you ask me that?"

"I can't help but think about when Michael and I got married when I'm planning all of this. I remember the day we told all of you. You stood, told us congratulations, and then you left the room." She recalls.

I feel a lump forming in my throat. "No, I wasn't upset that you and Michael were getting married. I understood. You two had a baby on the way, so it was probably the best thing to do. Even though all of it happened quickly, everyone knew you and Michael would get married. Trevor had some feelings about it though."

"Of course. He's never liked me." Amanda scoffs.

"You've never liked him either, Amanda." I shoot back.

"True," she says as we hear Michael and Trevor come back down the stairs.

Michael walks into the living room first and plops down on the couch. He grabs the remote and starts flipping through the channels, most likely trying to find any 80's action classic. Trevor slowly walks into the living room and is staring at something, not breaking eye contact with it. Amanda's back is to the living room, so she doesn't notice and Michael just plain doesn't care. Trevor crouches down and picks something off the floor. He stands slightly behind the couch, so Michael can't see. I watch him suspiciously, and he knows it. He holds up my red lace underwear from our little excursion on the couch the other day. 

I can feel my face growing hot. Fuck! I even tried to remember that he threw them to the side to prevent something like this from happening. I try to hide my smile behind my hand as Trevor holds it up by one finger, makes eye contact with me, and smirks. I try to mouth to him to walk back out of the living room and take them upstairs, but he insists on driving me up a wall. First, he holds them up, smells them, and pretends that his eyes roll to the back of his head in pure bliss. I have to look away for a second to prevent myself from laughing. I look back at him. He has them in his mouth now and shakes his head like a rabid dog sinking his teeth into a steak. Again, I have to look away. I look back and Michael is looking at me funny. Trevor is now holding my underwear up to himself like he has them on. 

I hold in more laughter. Michael's eyebrows knit together in confusion as he looks at me shifting uncomfortably in my seat, trying to contain laughter. Michael starts to look slightly behind him to see what I'm laughing at. Trevor balls up my underwear and shoves it in his pocket before Michael turns around.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Michael asks.

Trevor plops down on the sofa next to Michael. "Nothing. Watching a movie. What are you doing?"

Amanda turns around and looks at Michael and Trevor. "What are you talking about, Michael?"

"(Your name) is trying so hard not to laugh and Trevor was doing something behind me."

Amanda looks back at me, "What was he doing?"

"Just being Trevor," I tell Amanda. "Hey, babe, can you come over here for a second?" I call to him.

"Anything for you," he says as he comes over to stand by me. I keep my hand below the table and flick him in the leg. "Ow!" He says as he rubs his leg.

"Are you ok? What happened?" Amanda asks.

"Just peachy," he says through gritted teeth, ignoring her other question. "What did you want me over here for?" He asks me.

"Where and when do you want to get married?" I pull the binder closer for him to look at.

He scans over the page, taking everything in. "Well which is easiest for everyone to get to? Think about your father in North Yankton."

"Sandy Shores is about halfway, but you're going to be the only one ok with that. Maybe somewhere in the Vinewood Hills?" I suggest.

"That would be nice and secluded," he says.

"That description makes me anxious coming from you, Trevor," adds Amanda.

I laugh at Amanda's comment. "Is there some nice park or something like that up there?"

"Yes, in fact it was just built. It's really fancy. I think it's near the Observatory," she says.

"Then that's what we'll go with," I tell Amanda. "Now what date, T?"

"The end of this month?" He throws out there.

"Fine with me. Maybe the 24th?" I smile.

"Sounds perfect! Well we're finished planning then. I'll have to book the place and that's pretty much it." Amanda closes the binder and puts it back in her tote bag.

"I was gonna ask you two if you mind that Franklin comes. I know you just met him, but he's like family," Michael calls from the living room.

"The more the merrier," I say. "Like I told you, Trevor directly and indirectly shortened the guest list by two."

"We're going to bring this up again?" He says.

"Oh please," I laugh. "Just excuse me really quick." I walk out to the backyard and pull my phone out. As I dial the number, I walk down to the tennis court so Jimmy and Tracey won't be disturbed by my phone call. The phone rings a couple times. Right before the answering machine cuts in, a familiar voice answers the phone and almost brings me to tears.

"Hello, (Your last name) residence."

"Hi, dad. It's me."

"Oh, hello! I've been meaning to call you, but this has been an unusually busy month for me. How are you and Trevor?" He asks excitedly.

"We're both really good, dad, thanks for asking. How have you been since we were there?"

"Much happier now that I know you've been doing well all these years. I'm so grateful for your visit," he says.

I've never felt so guilty in my life. Part of me wants to just scream out that I had not done well in the past, that he shouldn't be kind to me or proud of me because I've robbed so many places and hurt so many people, and the man he's so thankful to for keeping me alive and that I'm in love with is probably a legitimate psychopath and so is my best friend, and the three of us used to rob places all together. It would be so freeing to say all of this, but I never will. I can't. I'm going to assume he'll ask me just the right thing some day and I'll have to make a decision on what to tell him. "Well, I just wanted to tell you that we've set the date for the 24th. Trevor and I would really love it if you came to stay with us."

"I appreciate that very much. When is a good time for you both?" He asks.

"Anytime, dad. You're always welcome. How about next Wednesday? That's about a week and a half before the wedding. It'll give us time to catch up."

"Sounds wonderful! I look forward to it."

"Alright, I'll pick you up at the airport."

-

I flop facedown onto the bed. "It's so good to be home," I say muffled into the pillows.

Trevor lays down next to me, "It sure does. I didn't realize how tired I am until now."

I hear a noise coming from downstairs and pop my head up to look at Trevor. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

I listen for it again and it's even louder the second time. I get up and run down the stairs. It happens agains and I realize it's someone pounding on the door. I open the door and Franklin is standing in front of me. "Franklin?"

He hands me a bag. "I delivered that cache of weapons and this is the payment from the buyer. Also, I hope it's good and all that I'm here. Trevor wasn't answering his phone, so Michael just gave me y'all's address."

"Yeah, it's perfectly fine. Michael really likes you and you've proven yourself enough, so I trust you. Do you want to come in? I can get you a drink." I step aside and motion him in.

"Sure," he says as he walks in slowly. 

Trevor comes down the stairs, probably wondering who I'm talking to. "Franklin, what're you doing here?" He asks.

"I was just telling (your name) that I texted and called you and you never answered your phone. I told Michael I wasn't getting a response, so he just sent me over here."

"Oh great! Michael is just going to tell anyone where we live now. He always was a little rat," he says sarcastically. He pulls out his phone and starts looking through his messages and call log for the messages from Franklin.

"Don't be like that, Trevor. Franklin is trustworthy and you know it," I say. I put the bag Franklin handed me on a table and unzip it. I take a couple stacks of cash out and hand it to Franklin. His eyes widen.

"Yo, I think you miscounted or somethin'," he says.

"No, that's your cut," I tell him.

"Just for delivering some guns?"

"Well, I've made some runs myself and I know they don't always go as expected. Once you get some of those jobs, you'll understand. Just wait until we're done cooking a batch. People will pay a pretty penny for that no matter where you go. Bigger payments for us means a bigger payment for you too." I say to Franklin as we walk into the kitchen. "What would you like to drink?"

"I'd take a beer if you got it."

I pull one out of the fridge, knock the cap off with the counter top, and hand it to him. "Also, Michael wants you to come to my wedding. I don't know if he told you about that yet." 

"No, he didn't, but it'd be an honor. I hope this doesn't offend you, but I didn't even know you were getting married."

"No, it's fine. I'm the one getting married and it's a surprise to me too. I never thought I'd see the day," I scoff.

Franklin takes a sip of his drink to avoid the awkwardness. "I know it's not my place. but why not? I thought girls loved thinking about that."

"Well, Trevor and I have had an eventful life. We've had to be on the run for so many years that we never thought it'd be safe. For the longest time, we couldn't even access our money in the bank!" I tell him.

"Mike told me about some of the stuff y'all did back in the day. I've got mad respect for all three of y'all," he says.

"Hey, Franklin?" 

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever be afraid or hesitant to talk to me or Trevor. I'll probably be easier to talk to than him, but he's there too. I just want to make sure you know we'll always be open with you. I know Trevor and I are asking you to do a lot and it's the least we can do, but you've really been saving Trevor and I a lot of stress. Anything you need, just ask."

"Thank you, (your name). I appreciate it." he says politely.

"As you're around Trevor more and more, you'll get to know him and it's a little," I think for a second to find a good word, "out there."

"Yeah, Mike warned me that he's a bit of a hot head."

"That's one way to say it," I laugh. "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into. If you have any problems with him, let me know. I can sort him out. And also," I turn and scribble on a piece of paper lying around, "this is my number. If he doesn't answer again, call me. He is very disorganized. I'll work out a system for payment and I'll let you know."

He takes the piece of paper and looks at me oddly, "Thanks, but I gotta admit you're making me nervous."

"Sorry, I'm not meaning to. I just don't want to see another person get roped into something and not know what they're signing up for with Trevor. I'm honestly over-preparing you. Trevor already likes you and once he likes you, he'll do almost anything for you."

"Good to know," he says as his phone starts to ring. I pull a beer out of the fridge for myself. The phone call only lasts a couple minutes. "Shit," he says as he hangs up, "I'm sorry, but I gotta go."

"No harm, no foul," I tell him. "You're always welcome here."

"Thanks for everything. I'm really excited about this opportunity y'all have given me. I never thought I'd be making this much for doing these runs."

"Well there's plenty more where that came from, so be on the lookout for a text from me or Trevor." I say as I walk him out.

"Will do," he says as he gets in his car that I saw earlier when we met him at his garage.


	56. Quality Time

Downstairs, I sat by myself on the couch. I looked around the room at our newly decorated house. We're here. We're finally here, I thought to myself. We made it through everything and Trevor kept his promises to me. We have this beautiful house, we're finally getting married, his business is thriving, and most importantly we have each other. But something feels off. It feels similar to the times when you're going to work or school and just feel like you've forgotten something. You don't know what it is, or if you've even forgotten anything at all, but it's this haunting feeling that you don't remember something that might impact your day. In this instance, I feel like I've forgotten something that might impact my life.

Trevor bursts in the front door, plunging me out of thought. He has a wide grin on his face. Clearly, he feels differently than I do. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy. I just feel like something is out of place. I hear his boots go up the stairs, not realizing I was in the living room. Did I forget something I was supposed to tell Michael or Franklin? Did I need to discuss something about the wedding plans with Amanda? Trevor's boots come back down the stairs quickly. "(Your name)?!" He calls, looking for me.

"In here, Trev," I reply.

He walks into the living room a few steps and stops, looking at me strangely. "What are you doing just sitting in here?"

"I don't know," I sigh, "I just started thinking and I have a weird feeling."

"About what?" He asks, sitting beside me on the couch.

"For all I know, it's just a feeling. You know how some days you just wake up and feel like something significant is going to happen, but it never does?"

"Yeah," he answers. "Should I be concerned?"

"No," I laugh. "Like I said, it could just be a feeling."

"I don't know, (your name). You have pretty keen senses, and I tend to trust them," he says as he puts an arm around me.

I snuggle up to him and try to push the feeling out of mind. I just wanted to enjoy sitting here and doing nothing with him. I close my eyes, trying to get more comfortable and clear my head. Trevor's chest rose and fell slowly, which was soothing. The sound of his slow breathing was calming to me too. He rested his cheek on the top of my head. I wished this moment could last the rest of our lives. It was quiet for once and we didn't have anywhere to be. My mind started wandering due to the silence. I began to think about the wedding that's going to be here before I know it. It's a little less than a week away. Everyone Trevor and I are friends with is going to be there. That is, everyone but my mother. And Johnny and Ashley. I sat up.

"You ok?" Trevor asked as he looked at me.

"Yeah," I smiled, "I'll be right back."

I went upstairs into our walk-in closet. I took my wedding dress out of the plastic covering and hung it up away from the other clothes to get a good look at it. Rifling through my jewelry box, I pulled out a couple sets of earrings. Some belonged to my mother and some belonged to Ash. I held them up to the dress, deciding what looked best. My mother had simple, real diamond earrings that would look good with everything. Ashley's style was a little more similar to mine, but also not what you would typically see at a wedding. I held up a pair of her earrings that looked like navy blue pearls. My mother's diamonds matched a little better, so I set those on the counter next to the dress. 

Remembering the jewelry I got from Ashley, I began to fish for something in particular that I wanted to wear. It was a simple, small silver band. It belonged to Johnny, but he gave it to Ashley and she wore it all the time. This way, my mother, Johnny, and Ashley can be with me on my wedding day. I held the diamond earrings next to the ring, and they looked very sharp and classic next to one another. I smiled and put them back in my jewelry box for safe keeping. 

"Crazy cakes, you up here?" Trevor called from the bedroom threshold. 

I zipped up the plastic covering on my dress quickly before he saw it. "Yeah, I'm in the closet."

"I hope not," he smirks as he leans against the door frame to the closet, "I kinda enjoy you heterosexual."

I roll my eyes and laugh, "Ha-ha, very funny! I was picking out wedding jewelry."

"What's that saying? Something old, something new-"

"Something borrowed, something blue," I finish his sentence.

"Have you found things that fit that?" He asks.

"Well, the dress is new." I kneel on the floor in front of my jewelry box to show him my choices. "I'm going to wear a pair of my mother's earrings she gave me when I turned 18; those are old. Does something you inherited from someone else because they died count as something borrowed?" I ask jokingly.

He shrugs, "I have absolutely no idea when it comes to stuff like this." 

"I have a pair of royal blue suede high heels from Ashley I can wear for the something blue. I've been trying to find an excuse to wear those more often."

Trevor kneels in front of me on the floor. He takes my hands in his, "I know I've been weird about the whole planning process, but that's only because it's new to me and I want it to be perfect for you. I just wanted to make sure you knew how excited I am and I'm honestly a little nervous."

"Nervous?" I smile

"Yeah," he shifts anxiously, "We've been together so long and I still get nervous when it comes to you sometimes. I just want it to be the day we dreamed of all those years ago."

I can feel tears starting to form in my eyes, "Trevor, it will be because it's happening and you'll be beside me." I notice his eyes start looking a little glassy, "Are you about to cry?" I ask him.

"No!" He says as his voice cracks and he grabs me into a hug. I laugh a little bit and a tear rolls down my face. "I just love you so much and we had a couple close calls there. It's a relief that we're still here and get to do this. I really thought I lost you when we did that last job with Michael."

"I remember everything about that day all too well. I've never seen you like that and I hope I never have to again."

"No," he says sternly, "I'm going to make damn sure of that."

I wipe a tear off his face. "I know you will," I smile at him. My phone starts ringing in my pocket, disturbing our intimate moment. I look at the screen and my eyes grow wide. "SHIT!"

Trevor jumps, "What?!"

"I knew I forgot something! I was supposed to pick dad up from the airport!" I pick up the phone, "Dad, I'm on my way now. There's just, um, a lot of traffic on the way to the airport."

"Oh good! I was just calling to say I just landed and got my luggage. I'll see you soon, sweetheart," he says sweetly.

"Before you know it!" I hang up the phone and shove it back in my pocket. I turn around and slide my feet into boots that look similar to Trevor's and tie them up quickly. Then I throw on a jacket and I go to run out of the bedroom door. Trevor stands next to the stairs, holding the front door open. He tosses me his truck keys and kisses me as I run out the front door. "Thank you, honey!" I yell to him. 

I hop into the truck and start it up. As I speed down the street, I look around the truck for things to make the ride a little less hectic. At the next red light, I find a hair band of mine in the cup holder and tie my hair up. I open up the center console and only see Trevor's sunglasses, so I put them on. I keep Channel X blaring until I pull up in the "arrivals" lane at the airport. I switch it to Los Santos Rock Radio and turn the volume down. I spot my dad sitting on a bench with a smile on his face. He hasn't spotted me until I park right in front of him. I feel so guilty!

I get out of the truck and hug him, "Hi, daddy. I hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Oh no, not at all. I had an interesting conversation with a man and a woman a little older than myself. They collect celebrity memorabilia from Vinewood, but they're both from the United Kingdom." He tells me as I load his suitcases into the back of Trevor's truck.

"Oh yeah? Well, it sounds pretty common for a place like this," I say.

"I've never been to Vinewood. I'm very excited to see it! Where's Trevor?" He asks.

"He's at home. You've seen the truck, dad. Three people can't fit comfortably up in the front and I'm not having anyone sit in the back."

"Yes, I think it's funny how he's kept the same truck since you met him," Dad giggles a little.

"He actually bought it after we started dating. It still drives like a dream, so we kept it. It's perfect for Los Santos weather." I hold the passenger side door open for him and shut it once he's inside. I go around and climb in the driver's seat.

"This is my first time being in this truck. I actually haven't been in a truck in decades. I don't have to tell you why. North Yankton is so damn cold all year round," says dad.

I laugh, "Yes, I now. I only grew up there."

"I can understand why you moved out here. The skies are clear and it's a comfortable enough temperature. I also haven't seen palm trees in decades." I can tell he loves the city already and is soaking in the atmosphere. 

"Well, I wasn't always out here. Trevor and I just moved to the city about a year ago," I inform him

"Really? Where have you two been all these years?" I can see him look at me out of my peripherals.

"After I left North Yankton, Trevor and I actually moved into a small house in Canada. We were right on the border, so we weren't too far from North Yankton."

"Isn't he from Canada?" He asks.

"Yes! I'm surprised you remember that," I smile.

"I remember a lot of things, dear. I'm not that old," he laughs. "Plus, he does have a slight accent with some words."

"Yeah, he does," I validate my father's observation. "He's very sensitive about it."

"What do you mean?" He asks.

I try to retain my laughter at how ridiculous Trevor can be. "He gets made fun of a lot for it."

"That's a silly thing to make fun of someone for. So, where else have you two lived?" He asks out of genuine interest. I could tell he was living vicariously through me; he always wanted to travel.

"After we lived in Canada, we actually came back into the states and moved in with some friends a little south of North Yankton and just west of Carcer City. Then we all moved to Ludendorff. You've been there." I tell him.

"That's very close to where we lived. How come you didn't visit then?"

"I don't have a good reason, dad. I just wasn't ready." I answer honestly.

"That's fair," he says. "There's a lot you'll have to catch me up on."

"You have no idea," I sigh.

"Well what next? Is that when you moved to Los Santos?"

"Not quite. After Ludendorff, Trevor and I moved to Blaine County and then we moved into he city."

"You've had quite the life! I do have to say I'm a little jealous," he says.

"You wouldn't be jealous if you knew the truth," I mumble to myself. Luckily, he couldn't hear me over the truck's loud engine or the wind whipping past us.


	57. Flashback #18

"...and they all lived happily ever after," I smiled as I finished the storybook. It was always a hopeful ending, but life isn't like that. When you grow up you realize your Prince Charming is a killer and a bank robber, people are assholes, and life just sucks. I look across the room and see that Trevor is passed out on the couch. His head was resting on the back of the couch, he was all stretched out, and his mouth was hanging wide open as he snored.

"Another one!" Tracey begged.

"How are you still wide awake and the book put Uncle Trevor to sleep?" I asked the blonde little girl sitting in my lap. She looked over at Trevor and giggled. "Why don't you wake him up and I'll go put your brother to sleep," I direct her as I look at her little brother, Jimmy, fast asleep in my arms. The 6-year-old hopped down from my lap and ran over to Trevor. She climbed onto the sofa and yanked at Trevor's coat lapel.

"Hm. What? What'd I miss?" Trevor says still half asleep as he rubs his eyes. He sees Tracey beside him and checks his watch. "Why are you still awake?" Trevor asks groggily.

"I want another storybook, Uncle T!" Tracey whined.

"Well go ask Aunt (your name). I was napping," Trevor grumbled.

"I need to put Jimmy in bed and then I figured you can have the privilege of reading the second story," I inform Trevor.

"Oh, how kind of you," he replied sarcastically. "Ok, let's go," Trevor said as he got to his feet, "Bedtime for everybody." 

I walked into Michael's bedroom with Trevor and Tracey close behind and Jimmy fast asleep still in my arms. Michael had managed to get two cots for the kids when they needed to stay at the abandoned slaughterhouse. I gently laid Jimmy down onto the cot and pulled the small blanket over his short legs. His stuffed elephant tumbled off the edge of the cot and onto the floor. I pick up up and put it under the covers next to him. Turning around, Trevor was standing over Tracey as she hopped into her cot and pulled the sheets up over herself. Trevor grabbed another book out of the bag Michael and Amanda had packed for the kids. I tucked the blankets in around her and kissed her on the forehead, and sat on the edge of the bed with Trevor as he began reading.

-

The minute Tracey rolled over and her lips parted, I tapped Trevor on the shoulder. "She's asleep," I whispered.

"Thank fuck," he whispered back as he closed the book and put it on the nightstand. He went to turn out the lamp. 

I grabbed his arm, "She likes the light left on."

Trevor holds his hands up like he's surrendering. We both quietly tip-toe out of Michael's bedroom and softly shut the door. As we sit back down on the couch in the main area, we hear the door unlock and footsteps coming closer. Michael and Amanda appeared in the doorway. They both removed their coats and slung them over their arm.

"Are they asleep?" Amanda asks.

"Yeah, Tracey just fell asleep," I inform her.

"Oh thank god. I'm so tired I just want to go to sleep," Amanda groaned. 

"Yeah, we're here now, guys. Thanks for watching them while we had a night out.Now, you two go have fun," Michael gave us a nod and a smile. 

"Yes, thank you," Amanda added. "I'm going straight to bed." With that, she walked off to the back bedroom that her and Michael sometimes shared. Michael followed her, but before he went into the hallway where the bedrooms were, he turned and said, "Don't you kids get into any trouble."

"No promises," Trevor said as he jumped to his feet and helped me up. 

He led me to the door and down the stairs, into the abandoned slaughterhouse and out the front door. We both piled into the truck and Trevor sped down the street. I had no idea what he had planned, but he was driving like he was on a mission. He pulled into a baseball field that was illuminated by one, tall light. Trevor went to the back of the truck and retrieved a canvas bag and a cooler. He pulled out two wooden baseball bats from the canvas bag and handed me one. Next, he opened up the cooler and retrieved a can of beer. He looked at it disappointedly and hit it against the side of the cooler, making a solid, impactful sound.

"I should've known the beer would freeze," he said and then threw the can back into the cooler with disappointment. "There's a bunch of shit in the other bag that I thought would be fun to destroy."

I pass the canvas bag and go straight for the cooler. I pick up the frozen beer, and throw it up into the night sky. The aluminum and condensation on the can glistened in the light behind us. It made contact with my bat and exploded, sending chunks of frozen beer and pieces of aluminum everywhere. It was actually kind of beautiful. Trevor seemed extremely amused.

"Woo! That was fucking awesome!" He exclaimed excitedly. He ran over to the cooler and picked out another can of beer and quickly attempted to do the same thing. As he broke the aluminum can, it shot pieces of icy beer everywhere and some liquid sprayed back at him. It was only half frozen. "Fuck!" He cried out as he wiped beer off his face.

I rummaged through the canvas bag and pulled out a weird porcelain figurine. I had absolutely no idea where he found this stuff, but it did look like it would break in an interesting way. Again, I threw the object up, waited for it to be at the perfect height, and slugged it across the field turning it into a million pieces. The white porcelain looked like heavy snow falling down from the sky. Trevor grabbed an object from the bag that I didn't get a good look at. When he hits it and I see green-tinted glass, I know it must have been a coke bottle. Now it was my turn again. I went over to the bag and stuck my hand in, feeling something kind of fleshy. I pull it out and see that it's a banana. I hold it up so Trevor can see and give him a weird look. 

I go with it anyway and stand in front of him. I threw the banana up and waited for gravity to bring it back down. It shot across the field in a couple different pieces. I looked at the ground and just had to laugh at the different colors of broken glass, aluminum, and a mashed banana. It turned around and looked at Trevor, seeing if he found the same thing comical. He just stood there in the North Yankton winter, bat hanging at his side from his hand and smoke-like breaths escaping from him in the freezing air. I stopped laughing, as he looked serious.

He quickly walked up to me and grabbed me around the waist with his free arm, pulling me into him. He planted a firm, but passionate kiss on my lips. I dropped my bat and put a hand on either side of his face, encouraging him to keep doing what he was doing. He dropped his bat also and put his other hand around my waist. I jumped up and wrapped my legs around him. He caught me and held me up as we made out. 

We stop to catch our breath. His eyes fall to my mouth and then back up to meet my eyes. "I'm sorry," he pants.

I look at him, obviously confused, "For what?"

"For bringing you back to North Yankton after I promised to get you out of here, for the meth use, for continually putting you in harm's way," He says with a slight tinge of anger, and then he softens, "For everything." He looks into my eyes like a sad puppy.

I look down at his mouth, wanting to feel it against mine again. I run my thumb over his warm lips and then look back into his saddened, dark brown eyes. I smiled, "It's ok, Trevor." I wrap my arms around him, embracing him. I can hear his breathing loosen in my ear as he relaxes. He looks happier when I look at him again, and he starts to kiss me again.

Who knows how long he's been keeping that in or how long he's waited to say that. I didn't know any of those things really bothered him, but I guess I should've known. North Yankton wasn't really an issue for me because I knew the area and I know we won't be here for too much longer. Trevor couldn't help that I was always facing the possibility of getting hurt or in serious trouble with the law. I made the decision to do those things when I told him I'd pull heists with him. 

But the meth was a problem. He'd come home during the early morning hours and collapse onto the bed. His clothes would be spattered with blood. He'd lay there, empty inside and a shell of who he was. The next morning, his eyes would be bloodshot from lack of sleep and I'd have to nurse him back to a stable state. He knew that I knew when he was high and he felt extremely guilty about it. I could tell by the way he carried himself.

Trevor put me back down on the ground and walked me back to the truck. He went to unlock the door, but I grabbed the keys from his hand. I unlocked the truck, crawled into the driver's seat, started the car and turned up the volume on the radio. Channel X, the station we kept on in the truck played out of the speakers. I got out of the truck again and held out my hand to Trevor.

"Will you dance with me?" I asked sweetly. He didn't even give me a strange look. He took my hand in his and put the other hand on my waist. I put my hand on his shoulder and rested my head on his chest. The steady pounding of his heart calmed me and I could hear it quicken as I pressed myself against him. We slow danced as Black Flag's "My War" filled the air around us. Not the typical slow dance song, but it is for us. I wish this moment could go on forever.

"I'm going to be better. For you," Trevor's voice vibrated in his chest.

I smile, "I trust you."


	58. Family All Together

Similar to Michael's house, our front gate rolled back automatically when it sensed movement. The truck lurched forward as I drove into the driveway. My dad made a sound that prepared me for the fact he was probably going to have a lot of questions as he looked at our house. I took the key from the ignition and looked over to read my father's expression. He was absolutely flabbergasted. Great. I have a lot of expelling to do and lies to make up. Trevor hears the engine before I cut it and comes outside to greet my father and I.

"Mr. (your last name), good to see ya again," Trevor yelled as he held his arms open to hug my dad.

"Hello, Trevor! It's nice to see you too! I want to thank you for deciding to marry my daughter and let me be a part of it before I die," he morbidly jokes.

"About that," Trevor starts awkwardly, "I realize I should've asked your permission. Although, you weren't readily available to ask there for a while."

"Nonsense," dad waved his hand at Trevor, "You had my permission long ago."

"Thank you, sir," Trevor said politely. Trevor roughly put his arm around me and pulled me close to him, "I know if we popped out a daughter, I'd be pretty angry if the little punk she was marrying didn't ask me." I looked at him awkwardly.

"(Your name)'s mother and I figured you two would marry. We always liked you, Trevor," dad smiled.

Trevor's expression softened, "That's really touching, Mr. (First initial of your last name). Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Beer?"

"I'd love a beer," my father said shamelessly.

"Dad, it's one in the afternoon."

"It's always five o'clock somewhere. Am I right, Trevor?" He pointed to Trev.

"Right-o you are, Mr.(First initial of your last name)," Trevor answered back just as shamelessly as he lugged my father's suitcases out of the back and into the house.

I rolled my eyes at them. "I'll show you to your room, daddy."

Before we even crossed the threshold, dad was already trying to get a peek inside. It was obvious he still had questions, but didn't want to pry. I wonder if he is starting to catch on to me and Trevor. Every second dad and Trevor were in the same room, I silently prayed that Trevor would keep it together. It felt as if a bomb could go off at any second. I loved that Trevor spoke his mind, but he had never truly been his authentic self around my dad. My poor father had no idea what the man he said he always liked was really like. If he knew, he'd realize that he never truly knew his own daughter.

I did my best to push the anxiety away and continue to trust Trevor. I ascended the staircase first and the two men followed. They made small talk with each other, which I just could not focus on. The knot in my stomach became more and more difficult to ignore. It's ok. I'm fine. Maybe it's just some jitters about the wedding coming up? Yeah, that's it. I walked into the guest room where Trevor's mother had stayed, and a flash of what I did to her added to the knot in my stomach. Trevor entered the room second and set the bags next to the bed. The two of them would not stop talking. 

"You get settled in, dad, while Trevor and I get you that beer and decide on dinner."

"Sounds good, sweetie. I'll be down in a few."

I immediately left the room with Trevor behind me. He put a hand on my shoulder right before we got to the steps. "Are you ok?" He asked sincerely. I scratched my forehead and didn't answer. Grabbing Trevor by the wrist, I begin to walk down the stairs with him. When we reach the bottom of the steps, he asks me again, "Is everything good, cupcake?"

"I don't think I can do this," I shake my head violently.

Trevor's brow creases, "Ok, what do you mean?"

"He knows nothing about our lives. He doesn't know all the things we've done. That's going to require too many lies to keep straight," I spout out nervously as I begin to pace.

"Whoa. Hey," Trevor says as he puts his hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. "We're going to tell him the truth."

"Trevor, are you fucking insane? Wait, don't answer that."

"We're going to tell him that after we saved up enough, we bought this house because of the success of our business. That's not lying," he consoles me.

"That's not the only question he's going to have," I walk into the kitchen and get a beer out, placing it on the bar in the kitchen.

"Let's tell him we stayed with my family until I got a steady source of income and then we moved from house to house as we made more and more. Tell him our end goal was always to get a big house in Los Santos, which it was! I'm telling you to tell him the truth, minus a few grisly details."

"You realize we're going to have to fill Michael, Amanda, Tracey, Jimmy, Wade, Floyd, Ron, Chef and Franklin in on everything we've told him?" I remind him.

Dad walks into the kitchen and I grow rigid. Trevor senses this and moves slightly closer to me. I hold out the beer to dad, which he takes, thanks me for, and then sits at the bar. He takes a relaxed sip from the bottle. He's my father, but Trevor seems more at ease than I am. Trevor and I both stand on the other side of the counter from my dad, ready to make conversation. He puts an arm around my waist and moved me closer so that I could feel him against me and remember that he was there in the moment with me. My body instantly released some tension. 

"So," dad started, "now that both of you are together, you can tell me all about the past couple of years." 

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no! I tensed right back up and Trevor was quick to monitor it. He gently started rubbing my back. Trevor exhaled, "Well, let's start at the day I drove off with your beautiful daughter." Dad smiled. I could tell he was grateful for all the little things Trevor did that was evidence of his love for me. "I drove us to Canada and she met my mother and brother."

"Mm," dad mumbled as he swallowed another sip of beer. "Will I be seeing them at the wedding?"

"Unfortunately not," Trevor said, "both of them have passed away."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," my father sympathized.

"It's quite alright. My brother died years ago. It was an accident. Anyway, we didn't stay with them long. I had just turned twenty at the time, and I didn't want to live with my mother. So, I started working as a pilot. I made shipments between Canada and the states. (Your name) actually helped me. That job actually secured us our first house. It wasn't much, but at least we were getting somewhere." Trevor explained effortlessly.

I was beginning to feel better about the situation and my confidence increased. "That job is actually how we met our friend, Michael, who will be at our wedding." I smiled and looked at Trevor. He smiled back. All I was doing was taking his advice. Just tell the truth, but leave out the details I didn't want him to know. "Michael did the ground shipments though. After a while, we were all offered a better job opportunity and we decided to move to the place south of North Yankton I was telling you about earlier. We met a few new friends, Lester and Brad. We all got along pretty well when we were working, so we decided to get a place together so we could all save up and the cheapest place happened to be Ludendorff. We all lived there for a little while. Michael met his wife, Amanda, and they had two kids. They'll be at the wedding too," I trailed off. The story was nearing the nitty gritty. I didn't know how to continue from here. I looked at Trevor, signaling I needed help.

"The next bit of the story is a hard bit of the past for us to talk about," Trevor sighed.

"Don't feel obligated to tell me something that's painful to remember," Dad said. However, we did feel obligated. We felt obligated because we didn't want to leave any room for him to question our validity.

"We need to talk about it. It's important to us," Trevor elaborates. "(Your name) was in a horrible, horrible," he stops to think of what exactly to tell my dad so he doesn't keep adding adjectives, "car accident. I was in the passenger seat when it happened, so I saw everything." I could hear Trevor's voice begin to crack and I saw tears starting to well up in his eyes. Trevor couldn't even handle it being told in a different way. He wasn't over it. He sniffled, trying to avoid crying in front of my dad. "It wasn't her fault. It was the other driver's. I had never seen so much blood in my life and she kept closing her eyes." Trevor stared at a fixed point in the distance, vividly remembering that day. "I held her and she felt so cold. I didn't know what to do. I really thought I was going to lose her." He sniffled again and embraced me. "It was the worst day of my life."

Dad had a pained look on his face, "My god. I'm sorry that you have to think about that again."

"Me too," Trevor cleared his throat, pushing back his emotions. "It happened in the middle of no where, but luckily there was a man nearby that had some basic knowledge from when he dropped out of medical school. He saved her life."

"No, Trevor, you saved my life. You thought quickly and found Chef," I said to him. "Chef is what we call him. We met him on the outskirts of Blaine County," I explain to my father. "When Trevor and I finally found a place to live there, he started up a business and offered Chef a position. He still works in the Sandy Shores branch. Our next door neighbor was a very likable guy named Ron. Trevor decided to add him to the business. The run that branch now. We moved down here when we got successful enough and started a branch in the city."

"What's the business?" Dad asked curiously.

Trevor and I looked at each other. "It's a small, independent company that moves things," Trevor replied.

"So, like a moving company that moves your belongings?" Dad asked, trying to understand.

"Uh, yeah. Basically," Trevor scratched his head. 

"I can see how there's good money in that. Especially if you have the can-do attitude and feeling of trustworthiness about you, like you do, Trevor."

Trevor grimaced slightly, "Thank you. You're, uh, too kind."

"Anyway, you'll meet all of these people at the wedding next week. That is, except Brad, Trevor's family, and Lester."

"It sounds like you've met a lot of good characters that'll have your back," observed dad.

"I think you'll really like Michael, dad. He's very kind and easy to talk to," I add, slightly shifting the topic to something other than our fucked up history. "Trevor and Michael are very funny when they get together."

Trevor laughs nervously, but I'm the only one that picks up on that, "You have a funny definition of funny, my dearest!"


	59. Flashback #19

Trevor and Brad had been gone for at least half an hour. They were picking Lester up from the hospital and bringing him to the slaughterhouse. My mind raced, trying to decided what to do in the moment. We were sitting ducks here in North Yankton. I paced back and forth in the main room. A conversation with each one of the guys played out in my head and I imagined their reactions. When things like this came up, Trevor was who I went to. I would talk it out with him and he would try to give me helpful advice, but I wanted to include the other guys. 

Michael walked into the room. We were alone at the slaughterhouse. He eyed me with concern as I paced. He grabbed a Pißwasser from the small fridge and watched me from the make-shift kitchenette. I didn't care if he was looking at me strangely; I have so much going on in my head. My heart pounded in my chest as I contemplated saying something to Michael. He sits on the couch in front of my and watches me pace.

"You ok, (your name)?" He asked sincerely. I didn't hear him over my thoughts. He tried to get my attention a little louder this time, "(Your name)?"

I stopped pacing and looked him right in the eyes, "I need to talk to you. I don't want to talk to Trevor about it just yet because he would try to talk me out of it."

Michael's posture stiffened, "Look, if you're pregnant, I'm not the guy to talk to about what to do."

"What? No, I'm not pregnant." I shook my head, trying to gather my thoughts.

He relaxed. "Ok, I might be able to help you then."

"I've really been thinking about this lately. We're all getting a little low on cash and I really thought about what you were saying about Amanda and the kids. I was going to wait until Brad and Trevor came back with Lester to tell you guys this, but I think we should hit the cash depot." I took a sigh of relief.

Michael placed his beer on the wobbly coffee table in front of us. "Why now?" 

"Honestly, I want to get the fuck out of North Yankton. You need to get your family into a better house with more room. We could be set for years, Michael." I said excitedly.

He sighed, "You fought this job for years, so excuse me if I'm a little confused and taken by surprise. You haven't said anything to Trevor?"

"No, he'd give me a lecture about not changing my mind for other people when it's not what I want. I do want this though, Michael. I want it for every one of us. You have a family, Lester needs to live somewhere closer to a hospital, Brad just wants bigger jobs, but the constant snow and lack of things to do are driving me and Trevor crazy! I never thought I'd have to move back here, Michael, and I don't want to see this place ever again." I grab his hand, "Please, Michael. Help me talk to the guys."

He looks at me oddly before simply replying, "Ok."

The door opens and Lester limps in with a walking stick, followed by Trevor and Brad. Lester greets me and Michael. Trevor's eyes are drawn to my hands around one of Michael's like a magnet. His jaw clenches. I move my hands. Trevor didn't treat me like his personal property, but he was very sensitive about physical touch. He didn't grow up in a touchy-feely family, so he didn't get hugs or pats on the back. Therefore, every touch meant something special to him. He knew that me touching Michael's hand didn't mean anything to me, but it meant something to Trevor. He wanted every touch of mine to be his because he craved that kind of affection after being starved for it his entire life.

"I want to talk to you all," I announced. I got up and took Trevor's hands in mine, which pleased him. "I especially need to talk to you," I said quietly so just he could hear.

"What about?" Brad asked dumbly.

I looked at Lester, "Let's hit the cash depot."

"What?!" Trevor exclaimed.

"Hell yeah! I thought you'd never come around!" Brad cheered excitedly.

"I didn't see that coming," Lester sighed. "I've had the plans ready for years, just in case. I'll start putting the plans on the cork-board when I get it all sorted out."

Trevor grabbed my arms tightly. "Why are you doing this?!" He didn't wait for me to answer as he let go of me and walked around the room angrily. He put his hands on his head and mumbled, "No, no, no.," to himself.

I knew he wouldn't be excited about my change of heart, but I didn't know he'd be so distraught over it. Michael's lips pursed and he gave me a look that said, "Well, that could have gone better." Brad looked so happy that he might as well have gotten high off of my announcement. I sat back down on the couch beside Michael, trying to think of how I'd bring Trevor back down to earth. He had disappeared into our bedroom. 

"What'd you say to her to get her to change her mind, Mike?" Brad asked with a wide grin.

"I didn't say a thing," he held his hands up in surrender, "she came to me."

Trevor's reaction was really beginning to bother me. I got up without another word to Michael or Brad, and went to check on my boyfriend. The crack in the door was not enough for me to spy on him, so I pushed it open slightly. He was sitting on his side of the bed, with his back facing the door. He was hunched over, fiddling with something. Then, the all-too-familiar smoke cloud rose above his head. I suddenly understood how Trevor felt when he experienced fits of rage as I kicked the door the rest of the way open as hard as I could.

This startled him, making him jump and drop his glass pipe. He whipped around and looked at me. I was fuming and he could see it as I stood in the doorway, staring at him ominously. How many fights had we had about this? How many more fights would we have about it? 

"I thought you said you were going to be better! I don't know why I believed you when you've said the same thing four other times and not followed through!" I screamed at him. Lester, Brad, and Michael could hear this entire thing, without a doubt. I was so tired of trying so hard that I didn't care what they heard. None of them really knew about the extent of Trevor's drug use, but they were about to.

"You told me you'd never 'ok' that heist!" He roared back at me.

I slowly walked around the bed and got closer to him, like a lioness stalking her prey. "You told me we'd be out of here before a year and we've been here for almost two!"

"I KNOW!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. It almost scared me, but I was angry enough that I wasn't going to back down. "I said a lot of things to you that I couldn't follow through on! Keep reminding me about what a shitty partner I am to you because everything is out of my control!"

"Don't you fucking dare make this about you! You're throwing a pity party when Michael has a wife and kids to think about! We all need the cash and this is our last opportunity! I'm trying to make sure all of us have our future set for at least a couple years! And I FUCKING HATE NORTH YANKTON!" I yelled so hard my throat feels like I swallowed razors. "This whole entire time you acted like you were ok with the heist, but really I just saved your ass from being the one to say no! Now that I want to do it, you're backing down!"

He stood up and got inches from my face. "I'm making this about me?! I'm thinking about you! I do these jobs with you because you like it, but it makes me a nervous fucking wreck! You know that Lester stressed how dangerous this heist would be and that we shouldn't do it, but you insist on torturing me! I'm always only thinking about you!"

"Oh, is that right?!" My throat now feels like it's on fire. "Is that why you smoke meth all the fucking time?! Because you think about me and my feelings so much?!"

"So we're going to fight about that again now!"

"Yes, because you're throwing a shit-fit about not wanting me to get hurt, but I have to sit back and watch you slowly kill yourself with drugs! That's not fair!" My entire body trembled with anger. I had to release some of the energy, so I push his shoulders.

It doesn't phase him much as he's at least a foot taller than me and much stronger. "I'm trying to keep it fucking together! I'm trying to keep this fucking group together! No one ever asks how I feel about it!"

"Because you never talk to anyone! You hide in the bedroom and smoke crystal whenever anything is wrong! By then, you're so fucking high that all you can do is lay there! I've fucking had it, Trevor! I love you, but I don't want to keep going in circles like this! I want to do this job and I want my partner back!" I choke back tears.

Trevor gets in my face again. His face is is stoic. "If you've had it, then fucking leave," he whispers and then storms out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

My entire body gives way and I burst into tears ad I fall to my knees. The room still smells like meth. Michael and Brad's voices are audible through the wall, and then Trevor snaps at them creating a wave of silence. The front door slams and I know that Trevor has left the building. There's no way of me knowing where he's going or if he'll come back. I start replaying the argument in my head immediately and get a second wind of anger. I get to my feet and start throwing whatever I can find around the room. The other three guys, could probably hear this too, but I really couldn't care less at this point. 

Trevor had never said anything like that to me. Is that how expendable he saw us? I stood in the center of the room, bawling my eyes out. I convinced myself it was the drugs talking. I went into the bathroom, grabbed some toilet paper and dabbed at my eyes. I sniffled and looked at myself in the mirror. Sometimes, I don't want to be me. I didn't want my history and all my baggage. Before I could process what I was doing, I sent my fist flying through the mirror. I yelped in pain and sank to the floor.

Broken glass and blood was all over the sink and bathroom floor. I examined my hand. There were cuts all over it and up my wrist and arm. Shining bits of mirror poked out from my knuckles, mainly. Blood dripped steadily from me and onto my lap and the floor. I could hear footsteps running down the hall. Michael slammed into the doorway, trying to slow himself down so he could enter the room. He quickly came over to me in the bathroom and saw me crying on the floor, covered in blood.

He grabbed my wrist, which made me wince, and examined my hand as well. "What happened?" He asked surprisingly calm.

"I-I punched the mirror," I sobbed.

Michael glanced up and saw that there was, in fact, no mirror. "Jesus," he said as he looked into the sink, "you're bleeding pretty bad. We have to get you to a doctor."

"No!" I shout.

"It wasn't a question," Michael shot me a look and hoisted my up to my feet by my underarms. He escorted my by the arm that wasn't hurt. As we walked into the main area, Brad looked over and was about to say something until he noticed my hand that was dripping blood. Michael quickly grabbed his keys and dragged me down the stairs and into the van. 

It was going to be a long drive until we got into town. Michael stayed quiet for a long time, but he was was clearly tense. I held my arm up with my uninjured hand and thought about saying something to address the elephant in the room. I don't know exactly what he heard, but I could tell it was the reason he was quiet. He wanted to say something too, but didn't know if I wanted to talk about it. He keeps his eyes to the road as an attempt to keep things light. Making eye contact for even a few seconds would make the whole situation more awkward and more personal, something Michael didn't want to do. After all, the fight was between Trevor and I and it was pretty private.

"He'll come back," Michael said and then cleared his throat. This was a safe area to make conversation because it was consolation, and not too personal.

I scoff. I think about giving a casual reply, but we were clearly not going to be able to ignore the awkwardness. "He told me I could leave."

Michael gave up and looked over at me, "You know he didn't mean it, right?"

"Yeah, but that's a sign of how much I've lost him. He never, ever said anything like that to me before he started using. I don't know how to help him anymore," I choke up.

"You can't, (your name). He has to figure that out himself. Just please remember that he's going to come back."

"How are you so sure?" 

He sighs, "Because he loves you so much."

"Does he?" I say dramatically.

"Yeah," Michael said annoyed at my assumption. "I'm going to tell you something, but it has to stay between us."

I look at him, "Are you sure you want to tell me?"

"Yes, because you need to hear it. I've never seen any two people look at each other the way you and Trevor look at each other. Right before Amanda and I got married, I started having doubts about if she was the one for me. I compared our relationship to you and Trevor's. Amanda and I don't have anything near what you two have, and that made me feel like maybe Amanda isn't the love of my life. I don't know how to explain it. You and Trevor are soulmates, two halves that make a whole. You both have such an obvious strong connection with one another and the two of you make it look so effortless." Michael trails off, obviously thinking about Amanda. 

"But maybe we've done too much damage. Maybe all the crime and drugs are taking their toll," I suggest.

"No," Michael says plainly. "You both are way too fucking in love with one another. Whenever Trevor talks about you or says your name and you're not in the room, his eyes light up just at the thought of you. Right now, the drugs are a strain on your relationship, but you and I both know you guys love doing heists together. Don't you understand that he can't be away from you too long? He'll come back, sooner than you think."

"He gets so angry though. He could get himself really hurt."

"But you're the fuel that keeps his fire going. He'll keep himself safe. For you." Michael says and then pauses a couple seconds. "I'll be honest, I didn't know he was smoking that much. I mean, I knew he did it, just not that much. You're a little hard on him when it comes to business. He really does think about you and the future you two can have together, so maybe cut him some slack." Michael tells me as he pulls into an urgent care that sits a little off the road. 

I take in what he said as we walk into the building and Michael fills the nurse in about the situation with my hand. Guilt swept over me as I thought about Michael's words and applied them to the argument with Trevor. The truth is that I am hard on him when it comes to business. I didn't think that was a bad thing. It kept both of us safe and assured that the job went on without a hitch. In Trevor's mind, it made him feel like he didn't know what he was doing. I insisted on doing heists because I loved the adrenaline rush it gave me, but it made Trevor anxious. All he wanted to do is protect me, and I wouldn't even let him do that. We both needed to sacrifice different things.

The nurse took Michael and I into a room and told us the doctor would be with us. It was late at night, so not many people were in the urgent care. Not to mention we were practically in the middle of nowhere. I looked at my bleeding hand and then at Michael. He looked at me like a mother who had brought her dumb teenage son to the ER because of some stunt he tried to recreate from his favorite action movie but fucked it up terribly. The doctor came in and gave me run-down of everything he was going to do.

He laid out a sterile piece of cloth on his little rolling table and instructed me to place my hand, palm downwards, on the cloth. Bright red beads of blood dripped down my hand and I watched as it bled and travelled through the clean white cloth. The doctor filled a syringe with a mystery liquid and injected it around my knuckles. It made my hand numb so that he could begin extracting the shards of mirror in my hand. Each piece was dropped into a metal cup with a satisfying 'clink'. When all the pieces of mirror were out, he gave me a a few stitches on my hand, wrist, and forearm. After that, he wrapped my hand up and told me I was good to go.

"Um, can I have all the mirror shards?" I asked. Michael laughed to himself, closes his eyes and shook his head.

"You're not the first person to request something like that. I'll go get a cup to put them in," says the doctor as he ushers us back to the waiting room. 

Michael hands the receptionist some cash to pay for the visit and the doctor comes back to hand me a little plastic cup with a metal lid that had the mirror shards in them. I thank the doctor for everything and Michael helps me into the van. When he gets into the driver's seat, he looks at the cup in my hand and laughs again.

"What's so funny?" I ask with a smile.

"Your souvenirs," Michael points at the cup.

"Don't you think they're kind of pretty? They're like chunky pieces of glitter," I say happily. "But with blood caked on them."

Michael laughs. "Now I get the connection between you and Trevor," he jokes.


	60. The Wedding

This will be the last time I see Trevor until the wedding, but it felt like it would be so much longer than that. He looked at me like me leaving was the last thing he wanted, but I had to. Amanda, Tracey and I had to get ready. He wraps his arms around me in a warm embrace, taking in the last moments of me being his fiancé. I smiled at him and kissed him, putting my hand on his cheek which he placed his hand over and kissed. Michael, Amanda, Jimmy, and my dad looked on as Trevor and I forgot they were even there.

"We gotta get the show on the road, lovebirds," Michael jolted us back down to earth. My dad laughed.

The dress that I had draped over my arm, covered by a plastic sheath, was laid into the bed of Trevor's truck along with a bag full of other things I planned on wearing today. Amanda and I got in the truck so that the boys could have the luxury of more seats with Michael's car. I drove Amanda and I back to her house, where Tracey was waiting impatiently with rollers in her hair. She stood on the front steps with her arms crossed. She was wearing athletic shorts and a hoodie that was slightly too big for her.

"Why are you outside? You need to get in your dress! The limousine will be here in an hour and a half and your makeup isn't finished." Amanda nagged her daughter.

"Oh right," Tracey said sarcastically, "the creepy asshole doing my makeup trying to grope me is my fault!"

"What?!" Amanda exclaimed as she stormed inside. 

I was the one getting married, but Amanda seemed to be the most stressed. She had planned everything, so the pressure was on her to keep everything going according to those plans. Tracey stomped after her mother into the living room that seemed to have been converted into a beauty studio. Amanda starts berating a male makeup artist that I assumed was the one hired for Tracey. He acts sheepish and tries to explain to Amanda that he had accidentally grazed Tracey's chest. Amanda keeps yelling over him and as a last resort, the makeup artist yells back that he's gay. Amanda stops and apologizes, admitting that she's stressed. 

He coaxes her into the chair to have her makeup and hair done, and gets her stylists. Tracey pulls me out of the doorway by my arm and informs everyone in the room that I'm the bride. Various people give me a congratulations and a woman with fiery red hair comes up to me. "I'm your stylist," she smirks which makes me uncomfortable for some reason. Who the hell are these people? The woman with red hair stands next to a chair and pats it, signaling me to sit down. I sit in the seat and she immediately starts putting my hair in rollers too.

"So," the redhead attempts to make conversation and drown out Amanda and Tracey being dramatic, "who is the lucky guy? Or gal."

I smile, "His name is Trevor. I'd say he was my high school sweetheart, but we didn't go to school together. I just met him right before I graduated high school."

"Isn't that cute," she looks at me in the mirror in front of us and smiles. "What made him the one for you?" 

I squint at her in the mirror, feeling like she was challenging me. "That's a hard question because there are so many things about him that I love. He's a little rough around the edges, but it's oddly very attractive to me. He's strong, brave, and overall just a very interesting person when you get to know some things about him." I feel as though she was trying to be an armchair psychologist, typical of LS, as I started to ponder the question a little more deeply. "He's the first man to make me feel safe, even when there is obvious danger. Everything is always ok when he's there. He's the only person that made me his first priority. He never stopped looking at me or treating me the way he did when he first saw me. He has, literally and metaphorically, saved my life."

I become aware that everyone in the room is staring at me. Amanda is wiping tears from her eyes and Tracey has her hand over her heart. "What?" I asked the room.

"That is like the sweetest thing I've ever heard," Tracey squeals.

"All these years," Amanda sighs as she blots her eyes, "you two endured unimaginable hardships. I don't think Michael and I could have done it and stayed together. You two are truly something else out of this world." She pauses. "It's fucking Trevor!" She laughs. "How is he so batshit, but is so good to you? I've never understood it, but you two get each other like nothing I've ever seen."

I laugh too, "I used to ask myself that all the time. At some point I realized that broken, life-hardened people just need a special kind of person in their life. We were lucky enough to find each other and be sympathetic to one another's problems. We never made each other feel strange or out of place. No one else understood that."

"I hope to at least have something half as romantic as you and Trevor," Tracey interject.

"Good luck," Amanda scoffed. "I wasn't even aware something that good existed until I saw how those two interact with one another."

-

Amanda and Tracey kneeled on either side of me to hold my dress open for me to step into. I steadied myself by holding onto their shoulders as I stepped into my dress. They pulled it up, around me and fastened the buttons on the back. They backed up and stared at me in my dress with my hair and makeup done. They both looked on the verge of tears. I looked at their dresses and immediately was satisfied at the choice. Lavender looked beautiful on both of their skin tones and their hair and makeup looked perfect.

Before I knew it, they were dragging me outside and shoving me in the limo. I put my heels on in the car. Amanda and Tracey watched me giddily. I glanced at the silver ring that belonged to Johnny and Ashley on my right hand. I so badly wished they could have been here for this. Ashley really knew how to party and Johnny would have let me relax and act a little less ladylike when I decide to kick off my heels and contemplate walking around in all the undergarments just so I don't have to lug around a heavy dress. 

The limo parked in the Observatory parking lot and we walked about a block to the new park they had built. Amanda was right; it was a very beautiful park. She made Tracey stay with me by the entrance while she went to go check on the boys. A few minutes later, she came back and confirmed that they were here and ready to go. My phone goes off and Amanda and Tracey both look at me like I'm nuts as I pull it out of my bra.

"Hello?" I answer it without looking at the screen.

"We're just around the corner," the voice I haven't heard in a long time says. It was so good to hear him. "Chef and I drove into town late last night after we wrapped up business for the week. Wade and his cousin are with us. We picked them up."

"Thank you, Ron," I breathe a sigh of relief. "We'll start when you all get here."

"Alright, can't wait to see you. Oh, hold on a second," a few seconds pass and then he yells, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," I say suspiciously.

"Congratulations!!!" The car full of men yells.

"Thank you guys," I reply, absolutely touched at how excited all our friends are for Trevor and I.

"I bet you look like a princess," Wade yells.

"You'll have to tell me when you get here," I laugh.

"Oh, I think that's her!" I hear Chef announce. They hang up the phone and a black car pulls up. The four guys pile out.

"Yep," Wade says, "you do look like a princess. But better!"

"Thank you, Wade," I say as I give him a hug. I hug Floyd next, "Thank you for being a part of this, Floyd."

"Are you kiddin'? I wouldn't have it any other way," he says as he blushes. He puts a hand on Wade's back and ushers him to their seats.

"Oh, Ron, I missed you so much," I say as I hug him. 

"We both missed you, and Trevor," he speaks for Chef. "I have to say I'm relieved we're not in the heart of the city. The lizard people would have found us." Amanda grimaces at Ron's comment, and then at me for not being put off by it. He shakes his head as he goes to find his seat, thinking about all those conspiracy theories he read about.

"I'm just happy to be out of the car. That was a long trip, especially with them," Chef jokes as I hug him hello.

"I can only imagine," I laugh. "Thank you for helping out with the business in Sandy Shores."

"Oh, don't mention it. I'd rather be busting my ass for Trevor than folding shirts for five dollars on the hour."

"Alright," Amanda butts in, "Are we ready to start?"

"Yeah, I think so," I inhale nervously. I held the bouquet of flowers up in front of me and straightened my shoulders.

"Ok, Tracey, you'll walking after me," she says to her daughter, "I'm going to get your father now." Chef follows after Amanda to sit with the rest of the guys. Amanda comes back, making small talk with my father. 

When he sees me, he is almost moved to tears. "My little girl," he says all choked up. "You look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you, dad," I smiled. He joined me by my side and we hooked arms.

"Ready?" Amanda asked. I nodded nervously and she made a gesture. It was a cue for some generic instrumental music to start playing. I was so grateful it wasn't the usual boring wedding music. Amanda knew me well.

Amanda adjusted her posture, taking this very seriously. She walked down the trail followed by her daughter. Amanda had set up curtained trellises so that we couldn't see each other and ruin the surprise. My father and I moved the curtains back and stepped through. My eyes immediately went to Trevor. I hadn't seen him since earlier this morning. He was looking down at his shoes and had his hands clasped in front of him. He shifted impatiently and then looked up.

His entire face softened and he pursed his lips, trying not to burst into tears. He was wearing a black, extremely well tailored suit. It looked like it was made specifically for his body. He had a white button up underneath the jacket and a black bow tie. He's the most handsome thing I've ever laid my eyes on. I quickly glanced over at Michael, behind Trevor, who was smilingly widely at me. Jimmy, behind his father, made the same warm expression as his father. I had to look back at Trevor. He looked so damn good. 

He never took his eyes off me as my father and I approached the end of the aisle.My father kissed me on the cheek and held my hand out for Trevor to take. Trevor took my hand gently and visibly enjoyed being able to look at me up close. Dad went to go sit down, and when I look over at him, I notice Franklin behind him. I smile at him and then look back at Trevor. I just wanted to get that suit off... 

The officiator begins his whole spiel, but Trevor is having none of it. "Look, cowboy, I've waited too many years to be standing here in front of her. I don't want to wait anymore," he says. Trevor sighs happily on the verge of tears as he looks at our hands together. "We were always destined for trouble," he starts. "The day I met you, some creep gave me the perfect opportunity to become your knight in shining armor for the very first time in a lifetime of coming to your rescue. Little did I know that I was sticking up for the most beautiful girl that was going to be the only person in my corner my entire life, and eventually the girl that would become my wife. I told myself that I never wanted to get married because it was an excuse not to be alone, but that changed when I met you. I realized that being a partner to someone meant a lot more than just companionship. You, (your name), helped me realize that it means giving your life, if it came to it, for the other person because they're the first person you love more than yourself. I'll be honest and say in front of everyone that I didn't think I would ever know what love was or what it felt like, or even that I was deserving of it. And then when I met you, I never questioned any of that again. I know I'm not a perfect person and I've done some really bad things in my life, but you have never made me question if I'm loved or if you'd ever give up on me. We've been through hell and back, but you've always been there. I look at you and I see our past, present, and future and I can't imagine it any other way. I love you and I'm undeserving of you, but you make me a better man," he chokes up at then end.

I wipe tears from my face. "Trevor," I begin, "the very first time I looked in your eyes, I saw someone truly special. I didn't know what that meant at the time, but I knew you'd mean a lot to me. I didn't know that I was going to fall so madly in love with every little thing about you, especially the parts of you that everyone else doesn't understand. We were both two troubled people, and we still are in some ways, but I never wanted you to be anyone other than yourself. I have always loved your authenticity and I know it can get you in trouble sometimes, but it's who you are. And I have always encouraged you to be your authentic self because I too had to put other people's expectations before who I was, and I understood the pain that caused. Together, we grew and helped each other. And you're absolutely right, we were always destined for trouble, but we got through it all together. We bear the same scars and no one will ever understand us, and I'm ok with that. You gave me my life back, in several different ways. I will never be able to find the words to express our story in just the right way or to perfectly describe what you mean to me. I do know that there were times we never thought we'd be standing here, but we prove yet again how invincible we are together. We will continue to stand against the world, side-by-side, and against all odds. I love you so much, Trevor."

The two of us are nearly bawling. I look out at everyone and there isn't one person that isn't obviously affected by everything we said. My dad and Michael had tears streaming down their face. I could hear Tracey and Amanda sniffling behind me. The officiator tells us that we may now exchange the rings. Trevor places a small silver band with a thin line of bands across it above my engagement ring. I push a similar silver band onto his left hand. He looks at the officiator impatiently, waiting for the next bit of the ceremony.

"You may now kiss the bride," the officiator smiles.

Trevor wraps an arm around me and dips me backwards, planting a passionate kiss on my lips. He could feel me losing my balance, so he places his other hand behind my neck and kisses me even harder. Everyone erupts into cheers and clapping. Trevor basically tries to make out with me while tears roll down his cheeks. Michael clears his throat to remind Trevor of where we are and that there are a bunch of people watching. He stand me back up and wraps my arm around his. We stand in front of all of our friends.

"We have a reception to get to, Mrs.Philips," Trevor whispers to me.

"After you, Mr.Philips," I reply with a smile. He begins to walk back down the aisle and I follow suit.


	61. Flashback #20

I pace the floor for the second day in a row. Michael watches me again, but this time with amusement. Sharp stinging pains shoot through my hand and I rub it gently with the other hand. It didn't do much as I couldn't feel through the thick layers of gauze covering my hand and a little up my arm. We are all anxious. I am anxious because Trevor has been gone all through the night and for the majority of the next day. Michael is anxious because he empathizes my own nervous energy and he doesn't want me to do anything to further injure my hand. Brad is anxious because he has no idea what the hell was going on. He knew Trevor and I had a huge fight and that my hand is out-of-order, but that was pretty much it. 

The door to the slaughterhouse opened and Trevor looms in the doorway. His bottom lip has a huge cut, and he lifts his gaze to me with emotional pain in his eyes. The last few weeks have been pure hell, and I just break down. I burst into tears and I could tell he was going to too. He grabs me and pulls me into his arms. His breathing began to stagger as he starts to let go of everything he held inside.

"I'm truly sorry. I mean it this time," he whispers into my ear.

"I'm sorry too," I sob quietly.

I put my hands on his face to get a look at his lip, "What happened?"

He looks at me weirdly and grabs my bandaged hand with his, and inspects it. "What happened to your hand?" He looks back at me. I am just happy that he is alive, safe, and back where he should be. I kiss him and he winces. He lifts a hand to his cut lip and pulls it away. It is fresh enough that it starts bleeding again. He looks at the little spot of blood on his finger tip and then at me. He leans in and kisses me aggressively. I taste the familiar copper of blood, but neither one of us care. 

As we continue to kiss, I peel the winter coat off of him. Brad and Michael are still in the room, but keep silent. Michael clears his throat, which I know he does when he's uncomfortable. Trevor pays no mind to anyone but me, and picks me up. He carries me into our room and drops me onto the bed. He stands, towering over me. He removes his shirt and throws it to the side. I slide out of my pants and watch him unbutton his. He grabs my legs and pulls me to him. He takes hold of my underwear and pulls them down quickly, scratching me slightly in the process. Pink lines quickly form on the sides of my legs.

He leans over me and kisses me. "Get ready, cupcake, this might hurt a little," he whispers. I look at him suspiciously and was about to ask what he meant when he thrusts himself inside me with a satisfied grunt. It reminds me of our first time. 

"Trevor!" I yell.

"I love it when you yell my name!" He grunts.

"No, Trevor, I'm trying to tell you that you forgot to shut the door," I blush.

He turns his upper torso around, staying inside of me. "So I did." He turns and looks at me deviously, "I don't give a fuck."

-

"Rifles and sticky bombs?" 

"Double check," Michael answers plainly.

"Duffel bags?"

"Check," Trevor grumbles as he throws them into the back of the van.

"Masks?"

"Check," Brad adds.

"Are we missing anything?" I ask the four men outside with me.

"I don't think so," Lester answers for the rest of them, "Now we just need to go over the plan." He starts to walk back into the slaughterhouse and we go to follow him. He whips around and looks us all in the eyes, "There is absolutely no room for fuck-ups. You all really have to listen with this one." He stares at Trevor as he says that.

"We know, Les," I sigh. "The more you remind us, the more nervous you make us. If we're jumpy tomorrow, that makes us more accident prone."

"Yeah well you have no idea how nervous I am. This is the riskiest job any of you have done," he limps up the stairs. We all go into the main room and Lester makes a beeline for the cork board with all the plans on it. "The high risk makes it impossible to have a large crew, so it will be just you four. You will go in, masked, through the front door of the cash depot," he points to the main entrance on the map he drew out. "Get all the hostages into this back office so that you can get through this door. It leads to the safe. You'll use a sticky bomb to blow the door. This will set off an alarm, so you have a time window of about two minutes to grab the cash. You're lucky we're in the middle of nowhere and the police station is so far away. Anyway, you'll follow the hallway down and use another bomb to get through the metal doors. You'll meet a driver at the end of the road and he'll take you to a chopper. Trevor, you'll have to drive the chopper here. We'll pack all our stuff, blow the slaughterhouse up, and skip town as quickly as we can. Got it?" We all grumble positive responses. "Now don't stay out all night or drink too much. Tomorrow is a very big day," he says sternly to all of us and then goes to leave the slaughterhouse.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm having at least one drink. I need it," I say as I go to the small fridge and pull out a beer.

"I'll take one," Trevors says.

"Me too," Michael adds.

"Brad?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says plainly. I'd never really seen him like this. I pull four beers out and hand three of them to the guys. 

I sat next to Trevor and across from Michael and Brad. A symphony of cans popping open broke the silence in the room. Each one of the guys had a saddened expression and didn't say much. Lester had beat a dead horse about how so many aspects of this heist could go wrong. Michael particularly seems nervous. He is way less talkative than usual and doesn't even really make eye contact. I am the only one that seems just apathetic about it. It's work and at this point it has to be done. 

"Who died?" I tried to joke with them.

"That's not funny," Michael says quietly.

"Fuck. Fine. I'm just trying to make conversation. All of you look so depressed."

"We could all be dead tomorrow if things go badly," Trevor adds.

"You too, Trev? Come on, guys. Think of it this way, if everyone goes accordingly we can get out of this dump. Isn't anyone thinking about the brighter side to this?"

Michael chugs the rest of his beer and throws it on the table, "I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, Michael," I say obviously annoyed.

"Goodnight," he replies stoically and disappears into the hall.

"Maybe we all should go to bed," Trevor suggests.

"Yeah," Brad says and lumbers off to his room. 

Trevor takes me by the hand and walks me to our room. We set our beers on the wobbly tables next to the bed. He falls onto the bed and sighs. He closes his eyes, trying to process everything. Everyone's behavior has changed and it makes me happy I waited so long on this job. They were the ones that were gung-ho to do this job and now that they've had time to let it sink in, they realize how dangerous it is. I had gone from cautious to pretty excited about an opportunity to leave North Yankton once and for all.

I climb onto the bed and then over Trevor, straddling him. He opens his eyes and looks at me with a blank expression. I smile, trying to cheer him up. He grabs my hips and moves on his side, forcing me to lay down beside him. He rolls over onto his back again. Quickly, I sit up and look at him. He definitely isn't himself. None of the guys are.

"Will you please talk to me? All of you are shutting down and I'm not going to let you do it anymore."

"You know what's wrong," he says, staring at the ceiling. "I already don't like you doing these jobs because of the usual danger level, but this is something completely different. There are a lot more security measures to get through with this one and the get-away is going to take covering more ground than we're used to. Usually we get in a car or on some bikes and we're done. So much could go wrong."

"Lester just wanted to make sure we remembered to be cautious. It's going to be ok," I try to console him.

"You don't know that," he says blankly.


	62. The Reception

Trevor straightened his suit jacket and walk with me arm-in-arm to the limo. Michael, Amanda, Tracey, Jimmy, and my father followed closely behind. Trev kept an arm around my lower back, and helped me pick the bottom of my dress up so I could get in the car. I fell onto a seat and immediately kicked off the ridiculous heels. I rubbed my feet, not caring who was watching. Amanda and Tracey took their heels off in agreeance, and we all put them in a bag we brought along for instance like this. Amanda pulled a bag out from a compartment under the seat next to her and handed me a bag. I looked inside.

Trevor brushed a curl away from my face. From the bag I pulled out a designer cocktail dress. It was white and similar in design to my actual wedding dress. It was much shorter, as it stopped just at my knees. It was strapless and hugged my figure as it tapered off into a pencil skirt style. Below the dress was a matching pair of pumps, also shorter than the heels I wore to the ceremony. I looked to Tracey and Amanda who were both smiling at me wildly.

"It's absolutely beautiful! But I don't understand," I said.

"We figured you'd want something equally beautiful, but more comfortable to wear to the reception. I pulled the saleswoman aside at the bridal store and asked her to have it made." Amanda looked extremely proud of herself.

"You thought correctly! Thank you, Amanda. It's absolutely beautiful."

"Don't worry, there's a private dressing room at the reception venue. You can change there," She informs me.

Michael hands Trevor a box. "What's this?" Asks Trevor.

"Don't open it until later tonight," Michael says sentimentally.

"Oh, Mikey," Trevor said sexually, "A little something for our wedding night?" 

Michael rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, baby, you know it," he replied sarcastically, trying to play along. Us girls laughed at what an old married couple they could sound like sometimes.

The limousine pulled up outside of a small warehouse-type building. The lights inside casted a warm ambiance even from the outside. Cream colored flowers and decorations adorned the outside. Amanda couldn't wait to get out of the car as she just about trampled over Michael, who was next to the door. Tracey eagerly followed her mother. Michael moved aside for Jimmy and my dad to get out, then he stepped out himself. Trevor motioned for me to go next, so he could hold my dress for me. Michael reached out his hand, which I took for support. Trevor climbed out next and let my dress hit the floor.

We all approached the doors together. The rest of our friends weren't here yet, but we decided to go inside and get things started. It was a decent sized room filled with round tables. At one end of the renovated warehouse was a refreshment table, and I could already see a huge cake. On the other end was a DJ's station, where someone was already beginning to play some calm background music. Before I could fully take in the room, Amanda pulled me away from Trevor, with my bag in hand. 

We enter the dressing room and Tracey comes in with another bag, but much smaller. "Don't think I forgot about this!" She snapped at me. "You have to take off al the shit mom made you wear under your wedding dress and you have to wear these."

I take the bag and look inside. She had gone through my luggage and found the lingerie she made me get at Ponsonby's. "You are terrible," I laugh.

"It's your wedding night! You have to wear something sexy!" She yelled as she left the room. 

I wasn't really against the idea. I'd been wanting to wear these, but no other time felt right. Sadly, I removed my wedding dress and found a hanger to put it on. Amanda told me earlier she also brought the plastic covering for it, so it would stay clean. Next, the undergarments Amanda swore I needed to wear came off. They were uncomfortable and I didn't notice any changes while I wore them. I held up the lingerie set and admired them for a few second. It really was beautiful and I hadn't worn anything like this in a long time. Mesh bras and thongs weren't exactly good choices when you were outrunning the cops and shooting people. I know from personal experience that comfort is the better choice in those situations. 

Besides, Trevor never complained about anything I wore. Just another one of the many reason I love him so much. He never made me feel unsexy. I could tell Amanda couldn't relate, just by the shape-wear and whatnot she forced me to wear. The thought made me sad because Michael and Amanda used to be so different, and even their kids had caught on. I pushed the thought out of my head because this was not the day to think of those things. Even though I could wear a potato sack and Trevor would still find it sexy, I put on the lingerie. Hell, he'd probably find the potato sack sexier. I giggled to myself at that. 

I turned in the mirror to both sides to get a good look at myself. I missed wearing things like this, and damn did it make me look good. I grabbed the dress Amanda had made for me. When it was settled around my hips, I realized the dress was strapless and the bra definitely had straps. Shit. I peeked my head out of the dressing room and scanned the room for Tracey. She saw me and I waved her over. She awkwardly ran over because of the heels she was wearing.

"We have a problem," I sigh.

"What is it?" She asks as I pull her into the dressing room.

"It's a strapless dress," I say defeatedly. "The straps of the bra are going to show."

"Oh!" Tracey said excitedly, "That's not a problem! There should be a hook at the base of the strap in the back so you can make it look strapless." Tracey went behind me and tugged at the strap. "Yep, there's a hook." She unfastened it and brought it forward for me to decided where to tuck it.

"Thanks, Trace. Can you zip me up?" I tucked the strap into the seam along the top of the bra as Tracey zipped the back of my dress up. 

"All good?" She asked as I slipped on my new heels.

"All good," I affirmed.

I saw Trevor across the room, drink in hand, in a group talking with Michael, my dad, Ron, and Chef. On my way to him, I passed a table where the Heberts were sitting by themselves. "What are you two doing over here?" I asked them.

"Wow," Floyd said as he looked up at me. "You look gorgeous in that too."

"Thank you!" I say as I look down at my outfit.

"Still look like a princess," Wade added.

"We figured we'd stay out of Trevor's way right now," Floyd pointed to Wade behind his cousin's head and nodded over to the group of men. He meant that no one trusted Wade to not spill the beans in front of my dad about the past.

"Oh, that's probably a good idea," I agree. "Have you met Franklin yet? He's working for Trevor's company here in the city." I wave Franklin over. A girl was at his side.

"I don't believe we have," Floyd answers for him and his cousin. 

" 'Sup," Franklin gave me a nod, "Congratulations, by the way. Y'all look real happy."

"Thank you, Franklin," I smile. "This is Wade and Floyd. They're cousins. Wade worked for the Blaine County branch of T.P.I. and we picked up Floyd along the way."

"Nice to meet y'all," Franklin offered his hand to Floyd, but he didn't bother with Wade who wasn't paying attention as he scribbled onto a piece of paper. "By the way, this is Juliette. I hope you don't mind, but Michael said I should probably bring a date."

"It's perfectly fine. Franklin, will you keep them company while I go talk to Trevor?" I recognized Juliette, she was a stripper at the Vanilla Unicorn. It was a skill of mine I had to learn very quickly to scan rooms and remember every detail. She probably never got a good look at me in the dim lights to remember who I was.

"Sure thing," he said calmly.

I rub may hands down my stomach and then down the sides of my legs, making sure the dress looked it's best. I walked over to Trevor, who was deep into a story I was catching the tail end off.

"...and that's how to tell if your neighbor has too much chlorine in their pool," he says as he takes a sip of his drink. Everyone laughs, including my dad. I could feel my face going hot as I knew exactly what story he told. "Hello, beautiful," he greeted me.

"Hi, handsome," I smirked.

"Excuse me," Amanda's voice was amplified all over the room. We all turned to look at her over at the DJ station. She was holding a microphone. "I'd like to get the festivities started this evening with a father-daughter dance. So if I could get the bride and her father on the dance floor..." she trailed off. 

My dad set his drink down on the nearest table and walked me over to a small, square dance floor. He took my small, delicate hand in his larger, rough hand and placed the other on my waist. I placed my other hand on his shoulder and waited for the music to start. Lord only knew what Amanda had planned. I felt a wave of relief wash over me as Robert Plant's "Big Log" began. 

"I don't think I've ever seen you this happy," my dad noted aloud.

"I married the man I've been in love with for years and I'm surrounded by genuine friends and family. How could I not be?" I smile happily, feeling a warmth in my chest.

"I don't want you to regret any decision you've ever mad, (your name). All those decisions led to this day. From an outside perspective, I'd say everything happened the way it should," he paused for a second to clear his throat, pushing back tears. "And I just have to say, I loved your mother with every fiver of my being, but the vows I said to her on our wedding day were nowhere near as beautiful as Trevor's."

"Dad," I started but he cut me off.

"I wrote mine down and read them off a paper to her, and Trevor just said them to you on the spot! None of us knew what the hell you two were referring to, but we could tell you two were speaking each other's language and coming from the heart. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and it really solidified in my mind that you are with someone who has always had your best interest in mind and will always be that way."

I wiped at my eye, "Dad, you're going to make me ruin my makeup."

"Ok, ok, I'll tone down the sap," he giggled. "You look beautiful, sweetie."

My father and I continued to slow dance until about two thirds through the song. I looked over and saw everyone watching us. I waved Tracey and Michael over to join us. After all, it was a father-daughter dance. Michael awkwardly looked at his daughter, but clearly wanted to dance with his daughter. Tracey crossed her arms, but gave in. Michael walked his daughter onto the dance floor and began to slow dance with his daughter. They both looked happier than I've ever seen when they were in the same room together. About two minutes later, the song began to fade out.

Amanda ran back up to the DJ station. Michael rubbed at his temple, obviously getting annoyed at Amanda needing everything to be perfect. She grabbed the microphone and tapped it a few times. "Now, I'd like the bride and groom to have their first dance together as a married couple." Trevor stood up and adjusted his bow tie like this was his time to shine. For a second, Amanda looked like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown as she watched Trevor slowly walk onto the dance floor. Tracey and Michael went back to their seats. My father took my hand and gave it to Trevor.

He wrapped an arm around my lower back and pressed me against him. It made me smile. This is the closest we've been all day. I've been dragged here and there all day getting ready for everything. It felt good to just be able to be in his arms. Amanda motioned to the DJ to start the song. Some sappy 80's song began to play. Only a couple seconds into it, before I could tell what song it was, Trevor grimaced. He let go of me and marched over to the DJ's station. Amanda was practically sweating. "The music's all fucking wrong!" He yelled. I looked over at my dad and awkwardly smiled. 'Yep,' I thought, 'this is who your daughter just married and has been in the presence of for the majority of my life'. Surprisingly, my father started laughing. I kept expecting my dad to react the way my mother would, but he was so much more accepting. He was right; we're more alike than I thought.

Trevor climbed up the front of the station to look the DJ in the eyes. The DJ looked absolutely terrified. Trevor made jerky movements towards some records and then to the soundboard in front of the DJ. They were in the middle of an argument it looked like. Finally, the DJ gave into Trevor and took the record off. He turned around and grabbed another one out of a bag he had backstage and placed it on the turn table. Trevor hopped down, fixed his suit and made his way back over to me.

Once again, he wrapped his arm around my lower back and pulled me tightly against him. I could only imagine what all that was about. The shrieking guitar intro to Black Flag's "My War" sounded over the speakers. Amanda held her head in her hand's and Michael sat next to her and began to rub her back as consolation for Trevor ruining her plans. Wade started head banging along to the beat of the drums. "Fixed it!" Trevor yelled. "Remember slow-dancing to this? It was one of many great memories of mine," Trevor smiled.

"I remember," I smile back. I wrap my arms around his neck and lay my head on his chest. Both of his arms wrapped around my lower back as we slow danced.


	63. Flashback #21

The laces on my boots seem to blur as I try to tie them. I blink hard, trying to wake myself up. Lester had warned us to get enough sleep and to not get shit-faced. I had succeeded in not downing the beer last night, but Trevor's words linger in my head. "You don't know that." I manage to get my boots tied and I sling on my winter coat. Trevor does the same and walks down the stairs after me. Brad hands each of us a ski mask. I shove mine in my pocket. Lester limps out of the slaughterhouse with his walking stick.

"Your eyes are bloodshot, (your name). What did I tell you?" He nags at me like a father.

"Yeah, Lester, I know," I wave him away.

Michael opens the back door to the van for all of us to get in. I walk to the van and watch Michael. I need him to look up at me. If he just looks in my eyes and gives me even just half a smile, I could muster more positivity for this job. Lester's warnings have gotten the better of the guys. I climb into the van without a word or a look from Michael. Trevor follows in after me, and then Brad. Michael shut the door behind us and then hops in the driver's seat.

We could see our breath inside the van. The heat is broken and even the fact we had layers upon layers of winter clothing on doesn't help. I'd be happy if the get-away car has heat. Just one shred of hopefulness would help me keep going, but the van was painfully silent. I scoot closer to Trevor for warmth, but it only helps so much. "Brad," I shiver, "Can you sit over here please?" He lumbers over, nearly losing his balance as Michael picks up speed. I loop an arm with Trevor and Brad on either side of me. It creates enough heat for the ride to be semi-tolerable for me.

"This is it, guys," Brad manages to get through his sentence without stuttering from the cold, "This is the big one."

"Just shut the f-fuck up," Trevor snaps, shaking from the cold.

The van slows to a stop outside a large brick building. For the first time, I feel bile rise in my throat at the thought of going through with this. I swallow and the feeling disappears, but the lump in my throat doesn't. Michael gets out of the van and I pray he doesn't give us the signal. He hits the side of the van twice and I close my eyes. Damn it. Trevor and Brad put their masks on and I have no other choice but to do the same. The back of the van opens and Michael stands there with a strange expression on his face that I can't quite read, but I know it doesn't match the context.

Brad is closest to the door, so he jumps out and Michael hands him a rifle. I jump out next. Michael hands me a rifle and my hand grazes his. I linger, waiting for that look. His eyes meet mine, and for a second I think he looks like he's expressing shame. 'We don't have time for that, Townley,' I think as I yank the rifle from him in anger. Now they wanted to get emotional about the heist when we were about to loot it? Trevor jumps out last and grabs a rifle from Michael. Michael puts on his mask and grabs a rifle, and then slams the back door to the van shut.

I swear my vision shifts into slow motion and I can hear my heartbeat. All four of us run into the main entrance. There's a woman standing at a window. Brad grabs her by the arm and shoves her to the floor, making her scream in fear. I feel like I'm about to faint, so I shake my head and count backwards from ten. Trevor bangs on the door and yells for the man behind the window to open the door, but that's all I catch. My hearing is fading in and out. What's wrong with me? This has never happened before.

The man behind the window is stunned with fear and can't seem to obey Trevor, who ends up kicking the door in and slamming the butt of his rifle into a man's face. Michael points his rifle at the rest of the people that were behind the window, ordering them to put their hands up. Brad rushes in with the woman he knocked over and she runs into the back room. I aim my rifle mindlessly at the hostages to get them into the back room. Trevor runs through a second set of doors and informs us he's setting the sticky bomb. Michael decides now is a good time to make a joke about Trevor blowing himself up.

Brad waits for the last person to go into the back office and shuts the door. Trevor runs back in and tells us that the bomb is set. I reach into my pocket and get the phone Lester gave me. It had only one contact in it: 'Detonate". I hit call and we all heard an explosion in the next room. I drop the phone to the floor and crush it under my boot. All four of us run into the hallway. Trevor eagerly taunts us about the money. Michael and Trevor take out the duffel bags and load it up with every last dollar they could find while Brad and I stood outside the door and kept watch. Trevor hands me a bag and I sling it over my shoulder. Michael gives Brad a bag too. The four of us run down the hall as quickly as the heavy bags on our shoulders will allow. 

Michael turns the corner first and is grabbed around the neck by a security officer. He rips his mask off and points his handgun at Michael, "I saw your face!" he says nervously, "I'll remember you!"

Michael, trying to act like the hero in an 80's action flick, quotes, "You forget a thousand things every day. How about you make sure this is one of 'em?"

I roll my eyes and Trevor quickly raises his rifle at the security guard, who starts shaking as he notices the look in Trevor's eyes. Even I was a little concerned. He coolly fires off one shot that rips through the guard's face and out the back of his head in a splash of red. Trevor shifts on his feet, impatiently. "Fuck! You didn't have to do that!" Michael exclaims.

"You rather the guard shoot you, M?" I ask rhetorically.

"Let's get going," Trevor urges, "There'll be time for grieving later."

We finish our sprint down the hall and come to the second set of doors. Trevor throws Brad a sticky bomb, which noticeably makes Brad jumpy. Brad runs up to the door, and plants the bomb while the rest of us slide behind cover. Brad reminds us of the timer on the bomb and we all wait for it to detonate. As my senses slowly come back to me, I become aware of the alarm going off. Shit, how long had it been? Lester told us we'd have two minutes. As we run through the new doorway made from the bomb explosion, we can hear cop cars outside. Fuck, fuck, fuck! The run In with the guard had slowed us down.

"You hear that? Sirens!" Michael says.

"Fuck the cops!" Brad shrugged off Michael's comment. Well, at least the boys seem back to normal. They were already jabbing each other after sulking for so long. "T, hit the shutter switch."

Trevor smashes the red button with the side of his fist. "What's this? Local resistance?" He jokes.

"It ain't supposed to go down like this," Michael said ominously.

"It never is," Trevor groans as he rips off his mask. Brad and I follow suit. At least three cop cars are outside and we begin to fire, pretty much blindly. I go to take cover around a pillar, but Trevor grabs me by the collar on my coat. "I'm not letting you risk anything," he says so only I can hear, "You're staying by me."

My blood begins to boil. Now he wanted to be my protector? Now he wanted me out of the line of fire? Now he wanted to talk to me? Fuck that. I push him back against the pillar he is taking cover behind and I run over to a different one. He shoots a cop here and there, but I can see him glancing at me through my peripherals. I drove him mad, but I'm enjoying watching him squirm. The rest of the boys shoot whenever the get a chance, so I waited for them to be sloppy and when the cops were distracted I fired off a round into their skull.

When the coast becomes clear, we all make a mad dash down the dirt road. Brad was staying quiet for once and Michael wasn't badgering him. Everything was going alright. Trevor calls out my name for my attention, but I ignore him. I swear I can hear more sirens in the distance. I shush him and hold out my arm for everyone to stop walking. They hear it too. Cop cars zoom up the street towards us. We all fire shots when we can. 

"There can't be many more cops in this town," Trevor hopes.

"You'd be surprised at the security measures a small town keeps," I tell him.

"We have to get to the car. The kid might have bailed on us. This wasn't exactly in the job description," Michael added.

The car is visible and we can see the driver waiting for us. Two more cars come sliding up the street as we come to the end of the road. A tall man with blonde hair and a mustache gets out of one of the cars. I recognize him. Michael, being a pretty good shot, gets two of the cops right away. Brad gets the third. "Let me have this one!" I call the other three guys off. Taking a risk, I stand from cover with my hands up and place my rifle down. Michael, Trevor, and Brad look at me like I've officially gone even more bat-shit than Trevor. The cop keeps his gun on me, but I slowly approach him. "Do you know who I am?" I ask the cop when I get close enough.

"Holy shit," he gasps. "(Your name). (Your father's name)'s daughter."

"Bingo," I say quietly with a smirk on my lips. He lowers his gun in regret. I quickly take the pistol from my inner coat pocket, aim it at him, and fire. A hole is formed right between his eyes and he falls backward into the snow.

"What the fuck was that?!" Trevor roars. 

"We have to get a move on," Michael tries to keep Trevor's attention.

Trevor grabs my arms and slings me towards the car, "Do you have any what could have just happened?!"

I don't answer him. Michael gets an awkwardly uncomfortable look on his face, decides to forget about it, and runs to the passenger side of the car. Brad looks like he wants to intervene between Trevor and I, but doesn't want Trevor's rage focused on him. He knew Trevor would never hurt me, so he figures I can take one for the team. I hop into the car and slide into the middle seat, between Brad and Trevor. 

"What took you guys so long?" The driver asks with genuine worry.

"Just shut the fuck up and drive!" Trevor yells and then returns his gaze to me. Brad and Michael try to joke around about the hell we just went through to ease the tension in the car. Trevor, obviously still annoyed, mocks them, "Bahbahbahbahbah!"

I want to laugh at how fucking childish he's being, but I purse my lips. I'm alive. That's what he should be focusing on. The driver pushes the pedal to the floor and before we know it, we're flying down an icy street in North Yankton. We hear sirens again and notice another cop car gaining on us. The driver begins to say something, but a cop shoots him. Trevor, still in a fit of rage, breaks the glass window beside him and shoots out of it. Michael pushes the driver's dead weight out of the car and takes over. "Fuck you too!" Michael screams at them as he slams the side of the car into the cops, sending them into a tree.

The rest of us cheer and yell a "Yeah, fuck you!" at the cops. We were all on an adrenaline high. This is how they usually were before a heist. It feels good to have my partners in crime back. "We gotta get to the chopper," Trevor reminds everyone, "If you hurry, we can beat the train."

"I'm driving as fast as this hunk of metal will allow me, T," Michael replies. Two cop cars fly past us. "It's alright. They haven't made the car yet," reassures Trevor.

"Shit, shit, shit! Road block!" Brad yells anxiously.

"Go right! Beat the train, man!" Trevor suggests. He seems to be the most calm and collected out of the four of us.

Michael slams on the gas and the train's whistle sounds, filling us all with dread. He drifts the car into a right turn. As we hit the tracks, the train t-bones the back of the car, sending us into a tail spin. Brad is pressed against the door. I slide against my will into Brad, and Trevor is pinned against me, turning me into a sandwich. Brad's side of the car gets thrown against a tree in payback for what Michael did to the cops back there. 

"Jesus!" Trevor exclaims. He takes a second to get his bearings and opens his car door, stumbling out but being persistent about getting to the chopper. I stumble out after Trevor, rubbing my arm that got squished into Brad's side. "We have to ditch the car. We can go this way to the chopper."

"No!" Michael says with a misplaced sense of aggression. I notice his face is all cut up. "Stick to the plan," he softens. Brad slowly tries to climb out of the car, but tires out. I aim my rifle down and throw Brad's arm around my free shoulder, giving him leverage to climb out of the car. Brad's head is sliced open too. Michael and Trevor start arguing over whether we should stick to the plan or find a different way. Michael has never been this persistent about sticking to the plan, so we choose to stick to the plan. The four of us, silently and cautiously, walk down a dirt path that leads up to a house and a barn. "Where the fuck is the chopper?" Brad asks the questions that seems to be on all of our minds. "I'll check around back." As soon as he takes a step in front of Trevor to go around back, a familiar popping sound rings out. Brad arches his back and falls to the ground. 

Trevor enters full panic mode, grabs my coat collar again and drags me behind cover with him. He has a bigger stride than I do, so I stumble and fell to my knees. He places an arm across my chest, preventing me from going anywhere. "Fuck! It's the feds! Someone must've talked!" He screeches. I can hear Brad gasping for air and my heart starts to pound. 

Michael grabs at Brad and looks him over. "Brad's going to be fine, but we have to get the fuck out of here!" The popping sound echoes again and this time Michael falls, making pained noises. "Aw fuck! I'm hit! T, (initial of your first name), you both have to get out of here!"

I start to hyperventilate. "Fuck!" I scream at the top of my lungs. I couldn't think or see straight. My vision clouded and I put my hands up around my ears. This wasn't supposed to happen. "What are we going to do?" I mutter to myself over and over again with my eyes as big as saucers.

Trevor lifts my chin up with a cold hand. "It's going to be fine," he whispers. "We ain't gonna leave you, Mikey!" He yells across to our best friend.

"I'm not gonna make it! I'm gonna fucking bleed out!" Michael tried to reason with Trevor. More sirens were closing in. Tears start to stream down my face as I realize we are losing Brad and Michael forever and we have no escape plan now. 

Cop cars drift in front of our path and Trevor screams, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" as he takes out some of the cops. I grasp my rifle and he yanks it from my hands and throws it to the side, not wanting me to get mixed up in this. More cops arrive, so Trevor loops his arms with mine and has us run behind the house. There's a woman that runs from behind the house. My ears begin to ring, but I hear him yell at her about the chopper and put her in a choke hold.

"Trevor, don't!" I scream through tears. He has to give up anyway because the cops are closing in too quickly. We need to just run. Trevor is a couple paces ahead of me, due to his wider gait. I try to run as fast as I can and catch up with him. The popping sound drowns out all the other gunfire and the sirens. I close my eyes in a split second and pray that Trevor will not drop in front of me. 

Before I know it, I'm on the ground. I let out the most unnatural sounding cry and it echoed through the small town. Trevor stops and looks back at me, and his eyes immediately fill with sadness and anger. I grab my thigh and let go again because it's too painful. I look at my shaking hand, covered in the red fluid. Beneath me, the hot blood was beginning to melt the snow and turn it the same red color. Trevor quickly glances around, ready to exact his revenge. It's no use. 

I try to stand and run to Trevor, but I can only limp. I can feel the bullet in my leg still. The image of the casing floating around against the bloody tissue inside my leg makes me want to vomit. A fourth shot is fired and I wonder if this will ever end. I fall to the ground again, making the same guttural noise. Trevor screams out, but in a different kind of pain. He runs up to me, and with superhuman strength is able to haul me onto his back. He drops the rifle and holds my legs against him as he makes a run for it into the fog. 

I begin to feel tired, but being jostled by Trevor's running was keeping me coherent. His panting began to sound shaky. I want to talk to him and try to calm him down, but I didn't have the energy and my voice caught in my throat. I can tell he's crying. I lay my head against his back and begin to cry too. I want to spend this moment close to him. I begin to make my peace with it. 

I'm going to die.


	64. The Honeymoon

A slow song starts to play. Michael looks at his wife timidly. She rolls her eyes at him and walks to the dance floor with Michael close behind. They look more calm and peaceful than I have ever seen them. Trevor wraps an arm around my shoulders as the lights dimmed. We had crammed a bunch of tables together so we could all sit together. There weren't a lot of us anyway. Trevor eyed Ron, who sits on the the other side of the table, watching Michael and Amanda.

He probably was thinking about his wife. Well, she was his ex-wife now. I look down at my hands and play with my new wedding band. The truth is, I felt a little guilty when it comes to Ron. When Trevor and I met Ron, he was married to very beautiful woman who made him happy. Trevor saw Ron's potential, but got tired of Ron constantly blowing him off because he "has a wife to think about". So, Trevor convinced Ron that his wife was only slowing him down from reaching his full potential. When Ron relayed this to his wife, she kicked him out and served him papers. That was years ago, but he's still paying off settlement fees.

I want more for Ron than just this. Everyone gets what they want and Ron gets the leftovers. I have also noticed that Trevor treats him differently since Michael is back in our lives. I tried to talk to Ron about it, but he swears everything is fine and that he's happier this way. In a strange way, I know he's telling the truth. Trevor gets up from his seat and grabs Ron by the arm, yanking him to his feet. Ron's fisherman hat falls off and he looks at Trevor nervously. He drags Ron to the dance floor, and forces him into a slow dance. Michael and Amanda both look over at the two men with eyebrows knit together in confusion. Ron looked around at everyone else watching them and swallowed hard. He looked uncomfortable, but also like he was beginning to have fun.

I giggled to myself quietly as I watched Trevor swing Ron around on the dance floor. I got up from my seat and crept over to Floyd, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Will you dance with me?"

"I-I don't know," he answered nervously. "Isn't that going to piss off Trevor?"

"No, don't worry about Trevor, Floyd. What do _you_ want to do?"

Floyd takes a moment to think and then stand up boldly. He pulls his suit jacket down and straightens his posture. He holds out his hand for me to take. I lead him to the dance floor and we both smirk at Ron and Trevor. Trevor was loudly and badly singing along to the song and Ron was laughing so hard he couldn't catch his breath. Michael and Amanda and Floyd and I all stayed with the tempo of the song and swayed slowly to the beat. Floyd and I both laughed.

"Did you have fun today?" I asked Floyd.

"More fun than I've had in a long time," he says calmly.

"Good. I think this is the first time I've seen you smile," I say, making him blush. "Can you promise me something, Floyd?"

"It depends."

"Promise me that you won't let anything, especially Trevor, keep you from doing what you want to do. I plan on attending another wedding. Ok?" I say to him just above a whisper.

He chuckles softly, "I'll do my best."

The song comes to an end and we all go back to our seats. Ron nearly loses his balance as Trevor releases him from his grasp. He falls into his chair, panting. Trevor sits next to me and takes a sip of his drink, like nothing out of the ordinary happened. Michael makes his way over and extends his hand.

"May I have the next dance?" He asks me.

"Of course, Mikey," I say as I take his hand. I was beginning to feel the way Wade described me, like a princess. 

Everyone seemed to put me as the center of attention. I suppose I should be, being the bride and all, but I'm not used to that much attention. I'm used to working in an environment and in situations where everyone needs to work together. Not one sole person is in charge of a scenario. I was only used to being in Trevor's center of attention, but it was nice to spend time with everyone here and there. Trevor seems to enjoy being around the Sandy Shores crew. I know he really misses it out there.

"So," Michael begins, "you finally did it. Now comes the incessant arguing, overwhelming depression, and absolute lack of sex." He laughs.

I laugh with him and roll my eyes, "I can only be so lucky."

"I do have to say, I'm surprised. We all know you two really love each other, but sometimes I thought that at some point you'd have enough."

"When I first learned about all the shit Trevor does, I thought so too. The funny thing about love is that it's the best way to be taught acceptance," I sigh.

"Maybe it's turned me into the master acceptor of bullshit and that's why I'm still with Amanda," Michael jokes.

"If you're the master acceptor of bullshit, then I'm the master acceptor of murder, rage, and insanity. Patron Saint Michael of bullshit and Patron Saint (your name) of murder, rage, and insanity!" I laugh.

Michael's smile fades, "I know I complain about my life a lot, but when I think about you it always gives me a reality check. You've been through so fucking much that I can't even begin to fathom. I mean, I can't even imagine what it's like being with Trevor. Just being his friend can be a lot sometimes. I'm so glad that he's never hurt you, but that's also surprising to me."

"I just think I'm the first one to not misunderstand or abandon him. I know he's different in the sense that he has emotional problems, but I can take it. He's never been too much for me. Somehow, I can reach him when he's going through a rough spot and he understands. No one else in this room gets that, and that's why he seems so intolerable. He is crazy, but he loves the people that give just a sliver of a shit about him. Michael, I hope you know he does really care about you," I try to assure him.

"I guess you are the only one who understands him because he could've fooled me," he scoffs.

"We came to the city that annoys him just so we could find you. After the cash depot heist, he went through a rough grieving period. Trevor loves you more than you you know, and you need to let him."

He gives me a strange look, "I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night and find him spooning me."

"This is what I'm talking about, Mikey," I give him a stern look, "Every time someone tries to show you affection, whether it's Amanda trying to be romantic with you, your kids trying to bond with you, or Trevor trying to work through the past with you, you always get uncomfortable and hide behind humor. I know it's awkward for a guy to be affectionate, but you should try it. Look at Trevor; he can take out all of Merryweather by himself, but he just danced with Ron in front of everyone. You can manage both, Michael."

He softens, "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Maybe _you_ should ask _him_ to dance," I joke.

"Yeah, I don't know about that," Michael laughs.

When the song ends, Michael and I both walk over to Trevor. I go to sit in my seat and Michael just kind of stares at Trevor. I think I'm more confused than Trevor is, but finally Michael embraces Trevor. Trevor keeps his arms by his side and makes a face, not really sure what to make of it. He gives in and hugs Michael back warmly. A smile plays at the corners of both of their mouths. It seems like I've gotten through to Michael and he's really trying to make an effort with Trevor. The two men break and Michael looks like he just feels better. Trevor pats him on the shoulder and reclaims his seat next to me.

"Jesus, what the actual fuck was that about?" Trevor whispers to me. "Pussy," he mumbles to himself and takes a sip from his cup slyly. I just laugh and put a hand over my eyes.

Amanda scurries over and whispers in my ear, "You ready to cut the cake?"

"Yeah! Sounds great," I tell her.

She goes to the microphone again and announces what is to take place. Trevor and I stand behind the table, next to the huge cake. Everyone else gathers around on the other side of the table to watch. Amanda just about runs over to us and hands me a cake cutter. I happen to glance at the cake topper and instantly burst out laughing. Trevor gives me a strange look and all I can do is point. He peels the topper from the top tier of the cake and holds it up to inspect in the light. Somehow, I knew Amanda had gotten them specially made. They had characteristics very similar to me and Trevor. It's really neat, but also creepy that they could make them that accurate considering how small the figures are.

Trevor isn't as amused by it as I am, and sets the topper to the side. He places his hand over mine holding the cutter. We move our hands in unison and take a slice of cake out. I take a piece onto my fork and hold it up for Trevor to eat. He grunts, approving of the cake choice. He grabs the cake off the plate and holds it too close to my face. He thinks he's so fucking hilarious. I wrap my delicate hand around his wrist to contain him from shoving it in my mouth and it getting all over my face. I take a bite and he shoves the rest of it in his mouth. I laugh, but Amanda looks like she wants to kick Trevor out of his own wedding.

We cut pieces for everyone else and the room buzzes and echoes with other conversations going on. Michael and Amanda were chatting with smiles on their faces and looked at each other lovingly. Tracey and Jimmy looked like they were having a passionate discussion about something they disagreed on. Floyd talked calmly to Wade, who was nodding every couple of seconds at what his cousin was saying. Juliette kept trying to get close to Franklin, but you can tell it was too soon for that for him. Ron, my dad, and Chef talked and laughed every so often. Those two and my father seemed to really get along, which Trevor really appreciated. I looked at Trevor, who seems to also be taking in everyone else's moods. 

The two of us sort of sat away from everyone else so we could finally have some space to ourselves. He looks at me, noticing that I have been watching him. He gives me a content smile, "I love you, (your name)."

"I love you too, T."

"I love all of these fuckers," he says quietly and sincerely.

"I love them all too," I laugh.

"Come here," he waves me over. I scoot my chair right next to his and he wraps an arm around me. We both look out at the entire room and all of our friends. "If I had to go through all that shit in the past to get to this day, then it was all worth it. I'd do it all again just for you," he whispered soothingly.

"I would too," I smile and he kisses me passionately. I move so that my mouth is next to his ear. "I want you, Trev," I place a hand on his leg. He leans back so he can look at me, and a sense of emotional longing came into his eyes. Did I say something wrong?

A repetitive clinking sound disturbs the moment. We look over and see Michael hitting his champagne flute with a fork. "Before the night ends, I'd like to say a few words as the best man," Michael looks at Trevor and I both. Amanda looks proud. "I met both of you when all three of us were at a confusion moment in our lives. We were dumb kids just trying to make a living and scrape by. You both were always there for each other, and even me, when things got a little heavy. (Your name), you were the voice of reason when we needed it most and Trevor, you're basically my brother. You both were and still are my family. I'm so thankful that I got to be here today as you two became a family. I don't deserve it and I know I wasn't always the best friend to you both, but I want you both to know that I take it all back. I am erasing the slate so that we can start again. Here's to many more years of friendship and family." He raises his glass and we all do the same. Ceremoniously, we all take a swig of champagne.

"That was beautiful, Mikey," Trevor yells over, "Thank you!"

-

About an hour later, Trevor and I walk over to Michael and Amanda's table. "We're going to head out now," I tell them.

"Oh ok, well we'll walk you out!" Amanda says energetically. The others catch wind and we all go outside.

"Can you tell Ron and Chef to drop dad at the house? They're all staying there while we're gone," I inform Michael.

"We've got you covered," he assures me. 

The chilly night air gives me goosebumps. Trevor must've felt them forming on my arms because he removes his suit jacket and wraps it around me. As we approach the truck, we see that 'Just Married' is scrawled across the back of the truck. A flower garland was draped across the top. I look at Michael, who is holding back laughter. He's the culprit. For a moment, I expect Trevor to be mad someone messed with the truck he loves so much, but he laughs. We both get in the truck and he flips the radio to Channel X. We need that after listening to cheesy love songs and what-not all afternoon and into the night.

Everyone waves to us and shouts various things as we drive off sown the road. I realize just how stuffy it was at the reception once the wind picks up as Trevor drives. We're heading to a secluded vacation home that Michael and Amanda bought several years ago. They told us they only vacationed there a handful of times, but it's large, beautiful, and romantic. Amanda mentioned it has a hot tub, so I was definitely on board. Michael said it was deeper in the valley, so Trevor would feel right at home as it was closer to Blaine County than it was to the city.

I took about an hour to get out to the vacation spot. It seems to tower over us in the darkness, but it's very modern looking. Trevor puts the key in the lock and we both haul in our bags. I immediately kick the heels off. My calves aches and so do my heels. Trevor grabs my bag from me and takes everything upstairs. I wander around the downstairs and take everything in. The kitchen countertops are a sleek stainless steel. The floor-to-ceiling windows all around the house really bring the outside inside. Huge couches lined the walls in the living room, where there was an enormous flat screen. I begin to wonder why Michael and Amanda don't live here.

Trevor comes back downstairs to get me. He hugs me for a few minutes. We both relax at the silence that we finally have. I look up at him and he plants a kiss on my forehead. I seductively slink up the stairs, and look back a couple times at him. He follows me up to the bedroom. The master bedroom was absolutely exquisite. It was on the corner of the house, so two walls are completely made out of windows. A fuzzy rug covered most of the dark wood floor and a king bed sat atop it. I took Trevor's hand and led him over to the bed, pushing him onto it. He removed his bow tie and I went into the bathroom. Even the bathroom had steel countertops, a jacuzzi tub, a huge shower, and a vanity! I have to gawk at the house tomorrow. I have a mission right now. 

I reach behind myself and unzip my dress. I fold it as nicely as I can and set it on the vanity. I take out the straps that were tucked into the bra and reapply them. Trevor had already put my bathroom bag in here, so I reached in it and pulled out my cosmetic. I touched up my makeup and stood back from the mirror, making sure everything looked good. I tousled my hair a little to turn the perfect curls into sexy waves. I opened the door and posed in the doorway.

"Holy shit," Trevor says, sitting on the edge of the bed in his underwear. He was already, well, growing rather excited. I sway over to him and straddle him on the bed. His warm hands rest on my thighs. I adjusted my hips slightly so I could sit more comfortably, which teased him. I pressed my lips against his and his hand trailed up my back. I looked into his deep brown eyes in the dark room. The moonlight creeps in through the windows and across his face. He pulled the straps off my shoulders and just let them hang there. He looks at me above him and brushes my hair off my shoulders.

I go in for another firm kiss. He just keeps staring at me and puts a hand on my cheek, running a thumb over my lips. The slow progression is just about to drive me insane, so I unhook the bra and remove it in hopes it would encourage him. He just continues to watch. I place his hands on my chest, but he drags them down and to my hips. _Anytime you want to participate, Trevor, that would be great,_ I thought. I swing my leg over and off of him to remove my bottoms and then his. I guess I just have to do everything myself. He clearly wants this too, so I don't understand what his deal is. 

I straddle him again, giving him a few seconds to decide to make a move. His hands find my waist again, but nothing else. Fine. I take him in my hand and slide down onto him. I arch my back and throw my head back in a moan that escapes me on its own. I have been waiting for this for about an hour and the anticipation is making me crazy. He exhales a little heavier than usual. He pulls me down so that our chests touch and my nose is millimeters from touching his. His warm breath brushes against my face, stares into my eyes, and he pulls the back of my neck closer to kiss me. 

"Will you please just fuck me already, Trevor? I've been wanting this all day," I whispered desperately to him, his face centimeters from mine.

"No," he growled as he flipped me over so that he was on top now. His eyes glistened in the moonlight as he stared into my soul, "I'm going to take my time the first time, Mrs.Philips."


	65. Flashback #22

I am jolted awake by Trevor dropping me onto the backseat of a car. He didn't mean to, but that causes the pain from my wounds to sear through my body. I am frozen in agony. Trevor pants as he gets into the driver's seat quickly. He wipes his eyes against the back of his sleeve and slams the driver's side door shut. I glance at the trees that come into my sight through the top of the windows in the backseat. I try to speak out to Trevor again, but I just don't have the energy. I want to say something, _anything_ , to him. It would be a relief to him.

He feels alone in this moment, and he is. Michael and Brad are dead and I'm on the cusp of death. My life is in Trevor's hands in this moment and it is killing him. Nothing makes him more uncomfortable than feeling alone. I need to say something to him. I have to tell him I love him and how proud I am of him. He needs to hear that. It will help him keep going. He begins to sob and tries to wipe his eyes so he can see clearly. He punches the steering wheel innumerable times. We are both in hell. He doesn't know what to do and I can't comfort him in my position. 

I begin to feel tired again and my vision fades.

-

I wake again, something I continually become thankful for. I don't know where I am, but I see it's a bar by the rows of bottles on the wall. As my vision becomes a little more clear, I notice a man to my left hunched over me. My back aches and I realize I'm laying on a hard wooden table. Trevor grabs my hand and holds it to his lips, kissing it. I watch as a tear falls from his eye, down his face, and feel the coldness of it as it drips onto my hand. All I can do is lay here and listen to their conversation.

"Can't you give her something? I don't want her to feel it! She's been through enough today!" Trevor pleads with the man.

He stays eerily calm. "No, she's in shock. If I give her anything, it could kill her."

"Fuck!" Trevor yells as he begins to pace helplessly.

"One, two, three," the man counts and then plunges something metal into my wound. I scream at the top of my lungs in excruciating pain. It's a natural reaction for me to try to thrash about, but I quickly realized I'm strapped down to the table. "There's one," the man who is wearing a pair of glasses says as I hear what sounds like metal hitting metal. Tears stream down my face and I sob in immense pain. Trevor keeps trying to touch me. "Don't move her or you'll do more damage. You can hold her hand," he tells Trevor. He counts to three again and I feel like I'm having a panic attack. I scream out again. "There's number two," he says as the metallic sound happens again.

Trevor's eyes are red and swollen from crying. I don't even know how many times I've passed out, so who knows how long he's been crying. He squeezes my hand and kisses it again. The pain is too much for me to take, and I feel myself slipping out of consciousness again. As my eyes close, I hear Trevor scream out.

-

My eyes flutter open again and I see Trevor across the room. He's sitting in a chair with his elbows propped on his knees and his head in his hands. He looks absolutely distraught. My whole entire body aches, but at least I'm laying on a bed this time. I slowly try to sit up, but my chest feels like an elephant is sitting on it. Sweat drips down my face and onto my clothes. I groan and have to lay back down. Trevor's head whips up and his eyes widen. He sits next to the bed and takes my hand in his.

"Oh my god. You're awake," he whispers as tears come to his swollen eyes again. This time for a different reason. "She's awake!" He yells.

The man with glasses walks in through the doorway. He has a shaved head and a sleeve of tattoos on one arm. He grabs my wrist gently with a black plastic gloved hand and looks at the watch on his arm. "Her pulse is still rapid." He removes a glove from his hand and places the back of it against my cheek and then my forehead, "She's still in shock, so don't move her around too much." I start to cough and make choking sounds. The man grabs my head and moves it to the side, over the bed and kicks the trashcan closer to the bed. I vomit into it and he returns my head to a comfortable position.

"I thought you just said not to move her around too much," Trevor looked at the man nervously.

"Yeah, don't elevate her head or legs. You never elevate the head with a patient in shock and she's been shot in the leg, so it'll cause her pain. You said she didn't have any trauma to her spine, so I can move her to the side so she doesn't choke on her own vomit." He explains to Trevor.

"Fuck all this medical bullshit! What do we do to get her better? That's all I care about," Trevor says.

"For now, we have to just leave her. Do not give her anything to eat or drink," he says as he covers me with a blanket. "She needs fluids though, man. You have to go to a hospital for that."

"No," Trevor snaps, "We can't go to the hospital."

"I know. I understand what you told me, but it's the cold hard truth," he sighs.

"What fluids?"

"I'm not a doc-"

"What fluids?!" Trevor yells.

"Uh, well she lost a lot of blood. I don't know what her blood type is though, so O negative blood. Some kind of hypertonic saline crystalloid or colloid to get her body circulating fluids again," he says quickly.

"What?" Trevor looks at him with agitated confusion.

"I'll write it all down," he sighs and leaves the room. He comes back and hands Trevor a piece of paper. "This is everything she needs and what I need to administer it. She's going to need them quickly. In fact, she needed them a while ago."

"Alright," Trevor says as he shoves the paper into his coat pocket. "I'll be back soon. Take care of her. Please." He bolts from the room and I hear a car start up and drive off out side.

The man takes the chair Trevor was sitting in and moves it next to the bed, and watches me. "Can you say something for me?" He asks just like a doctor would.

I open my mouth and I can feel how dry my throat is. "I-I th-think," I stutter.

"Good. You probably have no idea where you are. You're in a bar outside of Blaine County. Do you know where that is?" He asks, trying to gauge how bad I am. I only nod slowly in reply. Just saying those two words before made my chest feel as if it were caving in. "Your boyfriend told me everything that happened earlier today. Don't worry about me. There's enough dirt on me that I won't say anything. I have to admit I'm pretty shocked you're even alive." He pauses. 

I try to lift my arm up and it feels like it weighs two tons. He watches me like a hawk as I point to his watch. "You want to know the time?" He guesses. I nod. "It's almost 6:30 in the evening." The room goes quiet again. "Look, I didn't say this to him because he's not in the mindset to hear it, but I think he may be showing signs of acute stress disorder." I look over at him, obviously confused. "When he was explaining what happened to you, he would trail off in a sort of daze. I told him to lay down and take a nap. He tried, but he told me he just couldn't fall asleep. I started asking him some questions and he couldn't concentrate. I don't want to worry you because you are in a more life-threatening position, but I'm just letting you know in case you see signs and it scares you. Luckily, it can last for a minimum of three days. However, it can last up to a month and eventually result in PTSD. He seems to be pulling through better when he's taking care of you, so just let him."

About fifteen minutes later, Trevor bursts through the door and shoves an overstuffed bag into the man's arms. Neither one of us wanted to know how he managed to get all of it or how he did it so quickly. The man places it on a desk in the room and opens it up. He takes a coat hanger from the closet, bends it, and hangs it from the curtain rod above the window next to me. He fixes a bloodbath of O negative to it and sticks a needle in my arm. Trevor sits in the chair next to the bed and only focuses on me. I wasn't much entertainment because all I wanted to do was close my eyes and rest, but the man was right. Trevor seemed like he was going to be ok when he was watching over me, so I just let him watch me. Not like I could do much otherwise.

The man continued to set up all the medical supplies that Trevor had brought back. Medieval looking instruments were taken out of the bag, but I told myself the worst of the pain had to be over. The man saw the look on my face. "Don't worry," he assures me, "these are all just to make sure you stay sterile. You're not quite out of the woods yet." I relax somewhat at this, but it still makes me wonder. Trevor pays absolutely no mind to any of his words.


	66. The Honeymoon: Part Two

I wake up and Trevor is still asleep, as usual. I hold up a hand to shield my eyes from the morning sun's rays streaming in through the two walls made of windows. Trevor is laying diagonally across the bed. His legs are draped over mine. Carefully, I slide my legs out from under his so I don't disturb him. As I sit up, my spine cracks. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and they begin to ache. I go to stand and have to catch my balance by holding onto the nightstand. _Damn, Trevor. You were a little rough in the latter part of the night._

Eventually, I make my way to the bathroom and get dressed. I decide to surprise him with breakfast in bed, like a normal wife would do. I know we're far from normal, but this time was about us. I wanted to give him as much normalcy as I could while we have time to ourselves. We agreed yesterday that we wouldn't look at our phones until the day we planned on leaving, so hopefully everyone stays out of trouble. 

I go downstairs and feel immediately overwhelmed by the stainless steel kitchen. It looked like something only a professional chef had any business cooking in. I rummaged through the cabinets to find the pots and pan, and then I realize I have no idea what I plan on making. Neither one of us likes eggs that much. Toast is too simple. A quiche is too much. Who am I kidding? This is the same man that tried making a casserole for him, Brad, Michael, and I to eat and when Michael asked, "What is this chunk floating around?", Trevor replied "An eyelid. It's probably not even human." I think Michael, Brad and I threw up more than when I smelled burning flesh for the first time.

I try hard not to think about it too much before I start to remember the taste and texture. I never thought I'd have to explain to someone that if you absolutely have to get rid of bodies feed it to pigs, not other people. I close my eyes at the memory. Sometimes, my life doesn't even feel real. Needless to say, that was the last time we put Trevor on kitchen duty. I check the fridge to see what I have to work with. It looks like Michael and Amanda had the fridge and pantry stocked before we got here. 

I pull ham out of the fridge and cut a couple slices for each of us, and throw it into the pan. I also decide to make biscuits from scratch. I don't make them often, but the times that I have Trevor, Michael, Ron, Brad, Wade, and Chef go nuts for them. I'll have to make them when we're back home for Floyd, so he can try them. When everything is ready, I plate the food and carry them upstairs. Trevor is still out cold, laying across the bed. He hasn't moved an inch. 

Still holding both plates, I try to softly move his leg with my foot to wake him up. All he does is mumble in his sleep. I have to put the plates down and be a little more aggressive. I grab his arm and roll him over onto his back. I'd think someone shot him with a tranquilizer, but I remember that neither one of us really slept last night. I lean over and kiss him on the cheek, waiting to see his eyes open. No use. He continues to snore. 

"Trevor," I whisper. I kiss him on the cheek again, but he is still asleep. I'm getting annoyed, so I say his name again at normal conversation volume. I start snapping and clapping my hands. _Goddamn it, Trevor. You're not usually that heavy of a sleeper._ I grab one of his shoes that's laying around on the floor and launch it into a vase that was sitting on the dresser. Luckily, the mirror didn't break along with the vase. Trevor bolts upright.

"What?!" What was that?!" He looks around the room anxiously.

"Good morning, handsome," I smile and put my hands on my hips. "I made you breakfast."

"Are you ok?" He asks as he rubs his eyes.

"Yes, I'm absolutely perfect."

"Then what was that noise?" He yawns.

"I had a little trouble waking you up," I understate.

"What time is it?"

"Almost ten," I tell him. "You've only been asleep for four hours."

He falls back onto the bed, "You couldn't let me sleep in?"

"I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed. You better hurry up and eat it; it's going to get cold. I made biscuits."

"Ooh, gimme," he outstretches his arms for the plate in my hand and starts chowing down as soon as I hand it to him, which makes me laugh. 

Maybe I will be good wife material after all. After everything I've done and the fact that I can't give Trevor children, I thought I'd be the world's shittiest wife. I didn't think I deserved the title for the longest time. My feelings about that have only changed recently. I know Trevor probably feels the same way about being a husband, but he always tried his best to make me feel better about myself. It works for me, but I can only try with Trevor. I know he still blames himself for everything.

"I thought maybe we could relax in the hot tub today," I suggest to him as we finish our breakfast.

"Sounds good. It'd be even better if there were more biscuits in it for me," he says softly as he grabs me around the waist from behind and kisses me on the cheek.

"There's four more downstairs, but you are not eating all of them in one sitting," I say sternly.

"Jesus, yes ma'am," he jokingly salutes me.

I get up and dig through my suitcase for my bathing suit. "Get your suit on," I throw his at him. 

I undress in front of him and he watches like a teenage boy. That always made me feel good. After all these years, the passion and lust hadn't left and it's showing no signs of ever stopping. I put my suit on, and only then does Trevor put his on. We walk downstairs together and he makes a beeline for the biscuits once he spots them on the kitchen island. He grabs one and devours it as we walk out onto the back porch. The hot tub was in the corner of the porch under a gazebo type thing. The entire porch overlooked a hill that descended into the woods.

I delicately dipped a leg in the water and then swung the other leg in. I carefully lowered myself into the water and then put my sunglasses on. Trevor went inside for another biscuit and came back outside. He approaches the hot tub leisurely, but puts his one free hand on the tub and jumps with both legs into the hot tub. I become completely soaked by the huge wave he caused as he jumps in.

"Really, T?!" I exclaim.

"What?" He says with his mouth full.

I hit the water towards him and now he's soaked and the biscuit in his hand is soggy. "Fuck! My biscuit!" He shouts and it echoes through the woods. I burst out laughing at how stupid that sounded and he starts laughing too. 

He throws the soggy biscuit over the porch. "Oh well, some deer or whatever will hit the jackpot," he sighs. "So, feel any different now that you're Mrs.Trevor Philips?" He smirks.

"Yeah, the lower half of my body feels different this morning that's for sure," I scoff. "If I'm being honest though, no, it doesn't feel any different." Trevor looks saddened at the water in the hot tub. "I think I was Mrs.Trevor Philips a long time ago. We just had the ceremony to make it official years later."

He looks at me and smiles, "I think you're right."

We're quiet for a moment, which makes me start thinking deeply. "You know who I've been thinking a lot about recently?"

"Who?" Trevor asks curiously.

"Brad. I want to visit him," I tell Trevor.

He takes this in for a second, thinking about what to say. "That means going to the town you hate."

"I know, but I really want to visit Brad. And my mother," I start to tear up. 

"Come here," Trevor motions me over. I scoot over to him on the plastic seat inside the tub. He wraps his arms around me and holds me. "What's wrong?" He asks softly.

"Brad was such a fucking idiot, but I really miss him. And I never got to say goodbye to my mother." I try to hold back tears. 

"Ok, we can plan a trip there," he says quietly as he moves my hair out of the way. "Your dad would probably love if we stayed with him for a bit. Maybe we can drive him back instead of him getting on a plane again?" He suggests.

"Really?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Yeah, why not?"

"We've only been back there once since everything happened and we were only there for a short time. Don't you think it'd be too hard to be there for an extended period of time?"

"That makes it all the better of an idea to go there," he says to me in a way that tells me it's going to be painful, but it needs to be done.

Trevor himself still gets upset when he remembers what happened. Our lives were completely changed in that town. We agreed some time ago that it was a wake up call that we needed to live differently, but it was such a traumatic experience for both of us. Everyone knows about it at this point, whether it's exactly what happened our the truth stretched slightly to conceal Trevor and my criminality. However, no one knows the bond it secured between Trevor and I. It was one of the many things that brought us together, and it changed us.

Neither one of us were given the opportunity to fully deal with it while we were hours away in Blaine County. I couldn't hear the words _North Yankton_ without being overcome by intense anxiety for a long time. Trevor had to refer to it as "N.Y." for a while. I remember one time when Wade was telling us about Love Fist coming to town, but first they were going to North Yankton. Just hearing the words made my vision go blurry and I began to feel light-headed. Trevor and Ron were next to me, so they caught me before I hit the ground. Later, Trevor said he had asked me if I was ok more than once, but I wasn't answering him. I had heard nothing. I woke up and Ron was trying to keep me calm, but Trevor was in the next room ripping Wade a new one. 

"It might feel like going through it all again, but just know that this time you're safe and I'm always with you," he says.


	67. Flashback #23

For the first time in a week, I'm able to get up. Painfully, I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Trevor is fast asleep in the chair. I limp out of the bedroom doorway and into the main bar area. The man with the glasses is wiping down the bar. He knows I'm there, but doesn't acknowledge me until I take a seat on a stool at the bar. He takes a glass out and sets it in front of me, filling it with water.

"You're up and walking. That's good," he says reassuringly.

"Thank you," I say quietly. It still hurts my chest to talk. "I never thought I'd be walking again, not to mention that I'm still breathing."

"Yeah," he sighs, "you were definitely cutting it close there. To be honest, I wasn't sure all my efforts would pay off. I'm glad they did for his sake," he nods in Trevor's direction. "You were knocked out most of the time, but he was a complete basket case over you. You must be really special to him." He gives a quick smile and wipes the rest of the bar down.

I smile and think of what to say next. "You said he told you everything. What all did he tell you?"

"He said you two were in a small group that pulled heists on different places around the northern part of the country. You were hitting the cash depot in North Yankton and-" he stops as he notices me grab at the counter as my head begins to swim. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I push the words from my throat.

He comes over to me and pushes my knees down so that my feet touch the floor, "That helps the brain understand where everything is. You're still very weak, you know. You need to take it easy."

"Really, I'm fine. I don't know what happened. Tell me the rest of what he said," I urge him to continue.

"You all were hitting the cash depot and most of the crew got shot. Two other guys died, but you were lucky, for lack of a better word. He said he had to carry you for a bit until he found a car. He stopped at the first place he came to, which is here. I dropped out of medical school, so I have some basic knowledge on trauma first-aid."

"I guess we were lucky after all," I scoff weakly and take a sip of water to ease the sting of my chapped lips.

He pauses and looks at me, "I'd say you're meant for something greater." 

I give him an odd look, "What do you mean?"

"I saw cases of shock that weren't nearly as bad as yours while I was in school and we didn't know if they'd make it through. I'm not a religious type, but it's a miracle you're still alive." He gives me a serious, blank look.

I don't know what to say. Nothing about my situation feels miraculous. I lost Brad and Michael, I lost contact with Lester, we lost all the money in the get-away process, I was shot twice, Amanda lost her husband, and Tracey and Jimmy lost their father. _Oh god._ I shudder at the thought of Amanda bawling her eyes out and not being able to tell the kids why, but they're going to ask her where Mikey is when he doesn't come home. I'm thankful I still have Trevor. He's always been my rock when things get hard. Just having him trumps all the bad that happened that day.

I sit and think over that day. Trevor was right all along. I didn't know that everything was going to be ok. His paranoia, as well as the other guys', was healthy. This thought made me feel like it was my fault. I kept telling them to cheer up and get over themselves because it was going to go fine. I thought it was going to be like any other heist. I should've listened. Never again will I make that mistake. I'm torn from that thought as the man and I hear furniture flip over and Trevor yelling.

"She's out here," the man yells.

Trevor stumbles into the main bar area, looks around, and relaxes when his eyes fall on me. "You should be in bed! What are you doing up?"

"I've been in that bed for a week. I needed a change of scenery," I tell him.

"It's good for her circulation to walk around a little bit. I'll monitor her and make sure she rests when she needs to," he reassures Trevor. "You both need to eat though. I'll whip something up." He goes through a door to the kitchen behind the bar. We can still see him when he passes by the little window in the wall.

"How are you feeling?" Trevor asks me in a hushed tone as he sits next to me at the bar.

"Exactly how you expect someone to feel after experiencing the worst day in their life. I'm tired, weak, and I hurt all over." I try mask my heartbreak with sarcasm, but it only works so well.

Trevor grabs my hand and looks me deeply in the eyes. He exhales deeply and purses his lips. I look at his rough hand on mine. They looked dry and overworked. There was a black film under some of his nails, which I knew instantly was my blood. I look back at his eyes. He looks so sad. I know he's feeling the same loss I am, and I wish I could take it all away. He experienced enough pain before he met me. I just want the world to cut him some slack. 

"How are _you_ feeling?" I ask.

"Grateful," he smiles, but his eyes are still full of melancholy. 

"Hey, Trev?"

"Yes, crazy cakes?"

"I have to go to the bathroom. Can you help me? I don't think I can make it," I tell him timidly.

He smirks, "Yeah, let's go." 

He bends his knees slightly so he can put my arm around his neck, and stands straight again. All my muscles feel like they're being stretched apart. He quickly wraps an arm around my waist and I lean on him for support. I take a step and he follows as not to rush me, but he guides me in the direction of the bathroom. We are about to pass a table that's tucked in the corner of the room. I notice the patchy Burgundy stains all over it and my stomach ties in knots. My knees feel weak, and Trevor sense this because he tightens his grip on my to keep me standing.

"Is that mine?" I don't even have to go into detail for him to know what I'm talking about.

"Yeah," he replies uncomfortably. 

He pushes the bathroom door open and we both stumble in. He closes the door and walks me to the toilet. I unbutton my pants, which I realize aren't mine. They must have thrown out the ones I was wearing during the heist. I reach out for Trevor's arm and slowly lower myself to sit on the toilet. Sitting down was the worst. My thigh couldn't support me with a gaping whole torn through it. Trevor looked around the bathroom, examining it. When I was finished, I grab Trevor's arm again and he yanks me to my feet again. I groan in pain and I could tell how helpless he feels. I button my pants and he leads me back out to the bar.

The man was behind it again and two plates were on top of the bar. Steam billowed up from the plates, and just the sight of it gave me chills. I couldn't tell when the last time I had a warm meal was. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink when I was in shock and I just didn't feel hungry the days following. The smell reminded me of a small family-owned tavern my parents liked to eat at. I would always order this exact thing: a reuben sandwich. I took a bite and I was instantly taken back to eating dinner with my parents. I made pleased noises; this might have been better than the one at that tavern.

"What can't you do?" I jokingly ask the man behind the bar. "You can bring people back from the verge of death and you can make a _mean_ reuben."

He smiles, "Well, thank you."

"Hey, chef-man," Trevor jokingly calls him. "Can I get a pint with this?"

"Sure thing," he answers as he grabs a glass and fills it via the tap.

"Since you're a science-y guy and all," Trevor begins, "do you think you could manufacture drugs?"

The man slides the glass of beer to Trevor and laughs, "I've never tried. I guess it depends."

I eye Trevor suspiciously. "You think you could make meth?" He asks plainly.

"I don't see why not," the man shrugs.

"Trevor-" I say sternly. I can feel the anger begin to boil up in my chest.

He cuts me off. "What would you say if I offered you a business opportunity to do just that? There'll be an interview process though," Trevor sipped his beer.

"What's in it for me?"

"More money than you can imagine. There's a growing demand for the stuff," Trevor smirks.

"Well, what's the interview process?" The man asks with his hands on his hips.

"When I went into Sandy Shores for your supplies, I overheard some talk about a cash-for-gold guy that's in town for a short time. All you have to do is rob him," Trevor says plainly.

"Trevor!" I yell, but to no avail.

"I'll do it," the man shakes hands with Trevor. 

My entire body feels hot in anger and I stand abruptly, wanting to leave the room. I scream out in pain and clutch my side. Trevor jumps up and is trying to pry my hand away. We both look down and there's blood all over my hand and seeping through my shirt. Trevor swallows hard and the man pushes him out of the way. He lifts my shirt up slightly and takes a look. His expression softens and he goes to retrieve a pair of gloves from behind the bar.

"It's ok," he says to Trevor, who is breathing frantically, "she just ripped a stitch. I can fix that easily."

Trevor bites at his bottom lip. His eyes well up with tears. He throws his arms around my neck from the opposite side of my wound. He shakes as he begins to cry. I groan in pain. I put my hand lightly over the wound and my other one around him. We both have had it. We need a break from everything.

" **Stop** scaring me, (your name)!" He says through gritted teeth.


	68. Flashback #24

_**One.** A mist of red explodes over the new fallen snow. Brad falls to the ground. Michael is yelling to me and Trevor. **Two**. I see a hole form in Michael's chest and he falls. My chest feels tight and I'm struggling to breathe. Trevor grabs my arms and is speaking to me. I can't hear him. All I hear is a sharp ringing that only grows louder. He's shaking me with every syllable he utters. I look over at Michael. His eyes gloss over and are wide open. Blood drips from his nose. I slowly look back at Trevor, who is still yelling, but I don't hear a thing. He pulls me up and we're running as fast as we can, but he's ahead of me. **Three**. I fall into the freezing snow._

My eyes flit open. Sweat tickles my face as it drips down and into my eyes and mouth. Trevor is shaking me and calling my name over and over. As I regain the rest of my coherence, I wipe the sweat from around my eyes and look at Trevor. My hair is damp, making it stringy. I look around the room and notice the sheets stick to my legs. I look back at Trevor in confusion. I watch his lips as he says something to me, but the ringing in my ears from my dream fell into reality. His hand comes up to caress my cheek. I blink hard, trying to gather my thoughts. I feel like I'm going to be sick as the room starts to turn.

I grab onto Trevor's arms to steady myself. I blink hard one more time. "Wh-what's going on?" I whisper.

He sighs with relief. "I'm guessing you were having a nightmare. You were thrashing about. You almost slugged me!"

"I-I'm sorry," I say quietly, still trying to grasp my train of thought. 

Trevor looks at me with concern and pauses for a minute or so. "You were crying in your sleep, you know. And you're dripping sweat," he says waiting for my reaction. I don't answer. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks seriously. 

"No, no," I grimace as I rub my eyes. "I'm fine. I just need to shower really quick."

I push myself to the edge of the bed and walk to the bathroom. Trevor watches me. I can tell there's hurt in his eyes from me pushing him away, but I really don't need to talk about it. _I'm fine._ I slightly limp into the makeshift bathroom in the back of the bar. The shower is disgusting, but it was all that we had to work with. I remove my damp clothing and step inside the tub. The warm water feels better than anything I could imagine against my cold, clammy skin. I clean myself off and then get out a nice, clean pair of clothes from the little dresser in the corner of the bathroom.

As I step back into the bedroom, Trevor immediately looks over at me. Ever since that job went wrong, he's been watching me like a hawk. I know it's because he cares and is probably a little scarred from having to watch me go through all this pain, but it makes me feel weak. I still can't walk normally yet and he still has to help me get on and off the toilet. It's embarrassing to me because I've never been this helpless. I like the ability to do things for myself. That's one of the reasons I left my parents' house. They decided what we did and when.

"(Your name)?" He says timidly, trying to get my attention.

"Yes?" I answer as I crawl back into bed with him.

"When we were making our way to the getaway car," he swallows hard, "you made it a point for that one cop to see it was you. You shot him point-blank."

"What's _your_ point, Trev?" I ask, slightly agitated.

"What was that about?" He asks softly.

I roll onto my side, with my back facing him.

-

The fans circling above our heads are deafening in the silence between Trevor and I. He's leaning against the bar with his arms crossed, rubbing his lips together anxiously. I nervously tap my foot against the wooden floor. We hear a motorcycle screech into the parking lot outside, and Trevor and I glue ourselves to the front window. The man with the glasses jumps off the bike after he hides it on the side of the building and runs into the bar through the back door. Two cop cars whiz right by the bar and down the street. All three of us grin at each other, and he throws a bag in the middle of the floor. 

Trevor grabs it and digs through it. Quickly, he counts the take. "Fifty K," Trevor smiles widely. "You're a natural!"

"Thanks," the man pants. "So, about the job?"

"Oh, you've definitely got it, my friend! Here's your share," he throws a couple stacks of cash at him. "I'm going to see about buying a place to cook and generate some real income with this," Trevor eyes the cash in his hands like a woman would stare at a perfect clarity diamond ring. I cross my arms and give him a look because of his statement. "What? I'm not going to cook it to use myself. It's all being sold off. We need to save up for a place to live." He tries to assure me.

"One thing you should know if you're going to cook in Blaine County," the man says, "there's a group of bikers that have the territory right now."

"Well, we'll just have to pay them a visit and see about that," Trevor smirks deviously. He doesn't waste any time at all.

"You've officially lost it," I roll my eyes.

"No, I've officially got it," his eyes grow wild with enthusiasm. "I'm doing this for _us_. I promise you that we're going to have our shit together one day."

"I just don't know if this is the way we should be going about that, T," I say anxiously.

He sees the look on my face and puts his hands on both of my shoulders. "You know I've always had the idea to start up an illegal arms trading company. If we add drugs to the mix, we could have _it all_. We have to make the most out of a bad situation. This is a sign," he smiles.

I hug him, "I trust you, but do you really have to get involved with bikers?" 

"I have to let them know there's a new sheriff in town," he jokes. 

"Fine, but you be careful," I say sternly. 

"Always, cupcake," he kisses me on the forehead. "Now let's go look for a cook site." 

Trevor and I walk out of the bar with his arm around my shoulders. We go to the bike that the man hid on the side of the building earlier. Trevor swing his leg around it and straddles the bike. He starts it up and looks at me with a smirk. With a lot of pain, I manage to get my leg over the bike too. I rest my feet on the exhaust pipes on the side and wrap my arms around Trevor's waist. "Hold on tight," he says seductively. The bike lurches forward and gravity presses against us. I rest my head on his back and tighten my arms around him. 

I've never seen Sandy Shores before, but I've heard stories. I looks like a place you go to disappear, so maybe Trevor and I are in the right place. We need to take some time off from the world to rebuild ourselves, and this seems like the place to do it. Palm trees sparsely shade the desert that seems to go on for miles and miles. Every now and again, we pass a building that looks like it had been put through hell. The bike kicks back slightly as it gets lower on fuel. Trevor coasts it into a gas station. 

"Does that look abandoned to you?" He points at a liquor store next-door to the gas station we stopped at. 

"The whole town looks abandoned," I correct him. 

"True. Hold this," he says, handing me the pump. He goes over to the building, looking all around its exterior and even peeking inside the window. He jogs back over to me and the bike. "It's for sale and it's in a decent price range." 

"You gonna pull the trigger?" I ask encouragingly. 

"I think so," he smiles. "It's in a good, secluded spot. Don't-cha think?" 

"Yeah, I'd say so," I say sarcastically as I look around us into the vast desert. "Hey? While you check on that, do you mind if I go off that way? I think I see a building and I want to check it out. I saw some cars go that way." 

The world is your playground, my dear. Just be careful and don't leave me stranded here," he smiles. 

"I wouldn't dream of it," I say as I get on the bike and ride it off in the direction of the taller, sole building. 


	69. Back to Where it All Began

The truck slows to a stop outside the gate of the North Yankton cemetery. Trevor takes longer than it normally does to remove the key from the ignition, telling me he too had doubts about being here. We need to be here though. We already agreed that we have to say goodbye to this part of our past. It still looms over our heads every day. Before we left Los Santos, I suggested to Trevor to possibly bring Michael along with us. Trevor told me that this was about us. Michael hadn't been through what we had, and he did this to us. Just him saying that shows me that he is still having trouble accepting this.

He has been receiving letters and e-mails from Brad, supposedly in prison. Ron and I always had our suspicions about their authenticity, but Trevor was convinced it was him. I was always so sure I saw him shot in the chest and he stopped breathing before we ran off from the farm. Everything about that day was a hard truth. It was too hard of a truth for Trevor to accept, and he wanted to believe Brad made it. He couldn't handle losing both Michael and Brad, so he went along with the idea.

I carry a bouquet of flowers to the section my father had directed us to before we left the house. I slowly approach the tombstone, which has my mother's name, birthdate, and death date on it. I set the bouquet of flowers down and kneel in front of her. Trevor hovers awkwardly behind me, nervously looking around at the gates. We are obviously the only ones here, but we didn't quite feel alone. I silently apologize to her for not visiting before she passed, tell her that Trevor and I just got married, and that I love her in my head. 

"I want to see Brad now," I say to Trevor as he helps pull me to my feet. He looks extremely uncomfortable, but walks hand-in-hand with me to a grave stone. 

"Here he is," Trevor says quietly, still checking the gates. The trauma of what happened to us still fresh in his mind.

I fall to my knees in front of the stone that reads: Michael Townley, 1965-2004. Anger consumes me. I appreciate Michael's honesty about Brad being buried in his place, but it felt so wrong. He had Brad killed, tried to have Trevor killed, and almost had me killed. He couldn't give one small shred of decency to leave his grave empty and give Brad a proper headstone? Michael was trying to cover his tracks for his family's sake, but it was so selfish. There _had_ to be another way.

I burst into tears, reading the headstone over and over. I believed what it said for so long, along with Trevor. Michael should have just told us he wanted out. I could've convinced Trevor and Brad to leave him alone when it comes to doing heists, so we could all stay together. I rise to my feet and ball my fists, feeling the need to release my anger on something. I kick the headstone. Trevor jumps back slightly, surprised by my actions. I kick it over and over again until it's slanted in the moist, frozen ground. Trevor grabs my arm and pulls me away from it.

He pulls me into an embrace so I can't move. "It's ok!" He shouts. "It's ok." I can hear him start to get upset.

"It's not!" I sob. Trevor looks me in the eyes, not quite understanding what's going through my mind. I look back at the tombstone and plot of land in front of it, where Brad is laying beneath the ground. "You were so _fucking_ stupid, Brad, but you don't deserve this! You were dependable enough and even picked up what Mikey couldn't handle when he began to slip. I'm going to make this right. For you." I walk off towards the truck.

"Where are you going?" Trevor asks nervously.

I don't answer him. I dig through the ammo boxes in the back of Trevor's truck. I manage to find a screwdriver and go back to Brad's resting place. "Help me move it," I demand of Trevor.

"Are you crazy? Those things weigh a ton," Trevor scoffs.

"I got it slanted by kicking it. The ground is a little wet from melted snow. You can do it," I encourage him.

It takes a good amount of time, but Trevor finally gets it turned around. He sinks tiredly into the snow beside me. Taking the screwdriver, I carve into the headstone. It now reads Bradley Snider, 1969-2004. Trevor grows visibly upset when I move away and sit next to him and he see what I did. He covers his face with his hands. I feel slightly better now that Brad is now acknowledged appropriately, but Trevor doesn't appear to feel the same way.

"You ok, T?" I ask.

"I never wanted to believe he was really gone," he said sadly. "I should've known all those e-mails were too well written to be him."

"You were mourning, Trevor. Neither one of us could think clearly about it for a while," I try to comfort him.

"Thinking Brad was alive made it easier to process Michael's death," he says just above a whisper. 

I move myself over to him and rest my head on his shoulder. "Why does it feel like everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong?"

"Because it has for a majority of things we've been through, but we've always managed to turn it back around."

I smile, thinking about Trevor's statement. I agree that we have managed to turn everything bad into a better opportunity for ourselves. "Trevor?"

"Yes?"

"Want to go to the slaughterhouse warehouse next?"


	70. Flashback #25

"Where are you going?" Trevor asks as I kiss him goodbye.

"The Yellow Jack Inn," I tell him.

"I'll have to come with you some time since you spend so much time there. I should see what it's all about, but there's work yet to be done, crazy cakes." He sighs.

"Don't sound so down in the dumps. Being swamped is a good thing," I give him an encouraging smile.

"Right you are! I promise by the end of the month we should be able to find an actual place to live." He puts his hands on his hips and looks at me like he's disappointed me.

"This place isn't so bad," I assure him, "I would like an actual bed instead of a mat in the corner of the room and a functional bathroom though. This is a start though, Trev."

"God I really got lucky with finding someone like you," he shakes his head with a smile across his face. "You never complain about anything."

"We've been through enough that I'm satisfied enough with the fact that we're both alive and breathing," I laugh. "I'm gonna get going now. I'll be back in a few hours."

-

I park the truck into a space and walk into the bar. It wasn't too far away from the liquor store that Trevor is using as a cook site, so I come here to spend some time while he works. I don't like the smell of the meth cooking process lingering on me, so I make a point of staying out of the cook site. The man with the glasses was proving to be a valuable asset to Trevor's newly started company. He really knows how to cook, so Trevor started calling him Chef. A fitting title if you ask me.

"The usual?" The man that owns the bar was beginning to view me as a regular.

"Yes, please," I say politely.

As barren of a place Blaine County seems to be, there are plenty of interesting characters to get to know. The guy that owns this place is a perfect example. He has a European accent, but somehow ended up here. I take the bottle of beer he slides across the bar to me and walk off towards the game room. I stop and look at the picture of him in a tow truck. I know he watches me looking at it every time I happen to. He probably thinks I'm up to something, but I just have so many questions about him. 

I sit myself at a table next to a tank with a snake in it. I watch as a larger woman wearing a t-shirt with holes in it, Bermuda shorts, and Toe Shoes throws a dart at the dart board. A man behind her makes a face as she cheers. He's wearing torn up jeans, a t-shirt that had the sleeves cut off, and a worn out baseball hat. These two were the embodiment of Blaine County. I laughed quietly to myself. 

The bell on the front door makes everyone look over to see who was walking in. "Hey, Johnny," the man behind the bar greets him. 

"Hey, man. I'll just take a whiskey today," he says as he leans against the bar. He looks into the game area and our eyes meet awkwardly. 

I look away quickly, and continue to watch the couple playing darts. I kick my feet up onto the chair next to me and try to relax. I'm going to be here a while, so might as well get cozy. I lean back in my seat and close my eyes, but I quickly open them as I feel my feet pushed off the chair. I open my eyes. The man that just walked in sits in the chair and takes a swig of his whiskey with a smile. He looks intimidating. He was wearing scuffed black motorcycle boots, dirty light wash jeans, and then eyes fell upon the black leather jacket that was littered with patches. Some of the patches said _President_ and _Loyal_. Was that last one supposed to be comforting?

I look up to meet his eyes again. He had scars over his eyebrow, just like Trevor. His head is shaved and he has a handlebar mustache and stubble, and he is still smirking at me. I straighten my posture in my seat and try to read him. "Can I help you?" I finally ask.

"I guess we'll see, won't we," he smirks and takes another swig of his drink. "You look very out of place here. Where are you from?"

I scoff, "Take your pick."

"I can drink to that," he laughs.

"What exactly makes me stand out?" I humor him.

"You're way too beautiful to be a meth addict, which this town is mainly made up of. Also, younger girls don't hang around this place by themselves."

"What about younger guys? You and the poor guy behind the bar over there are the youngest and cleanest looking guys in here."

"Touché," he laughs again. "You're funny."

"I have two questions for you," I say plainly.

"Well, let's hear 'em."

"What's with the jacket?"

He looks down and smiles at all the patches. "You've never heard of The Lost MC?"

"Oh yeah, I've heard of them. So, you're in a motorcycle gang?"

"Essentially, yeah. What's the second question?"

I smirk, "What made you come over here, besides the fact that I don't fit in?"

"Not many girls are brave enough to go places by themselves out here. I guess you intrigued me."

I look at him with a blank smile, "I think 'brave' is an understatement."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, considering I just recovered from being shot twice," I take a sip of my beer without taking my eyes off of him. "I also rob banks and such in my free time and my boyfriend is a psychopathic drug and future arms dealer."

He starts laughing hysterically, but I stay blank. "You are _too_ much!" He coughs, trying to recover from his fit of laughter. He looks back at me and sees that I'm not laughing. "Seriously," he says with a confused look on his face, "where are you from?"

"Too many places," is all I say. I can't say the town's name without feeling panic, and what did he want to know for anyway? "What about you?"

"Liberty City," he answers quickly and proudly. "I joined The Lost MC there. We were in Alderney, and I was just the Vice President."

"How'd you become the President in Sandy Shores then?"

"Some, uh, complicated matters arose with our old chapter. I decided to move what was left of us out here. Since I was the Vice President, and even the President out there for a short time, we decided to just make me the President of this chapter." He answers as honestly as possible without giving too much away.

I pause for a moment and look at him. "I have another question."

"Ok?"

"The guy behind the bar, you two acted like you know each other well."

"Why? Because he addressed me by name?"

"Let's just say I've learned to read people a little better than I used to, given my line of work and recent predicaments."

"Ok," he sighs, "he was out in Liberty City too. We worked on a drug deal gone wrong together. I don't know why he decided to come out here, but when I found out he was here I decided it was the least I could do to become a patron of his fine establishment."

"I knew there was a juicy story there with him. He just seems like he's seen and been through some shit."

The biker laughs, "Yeah, that's an understatement."

I don't press the conversation. I've already asked enough. "What's your name again?"

"Johnny. Johnny Klebitz. Yours?"

"(Your name)."

"Ok, (your name), I have a question for you now."

"I'll do my best to answer it."

"How did you end up here?" He asks.

"I'm sure by now you can tell I wasn't kidding about what I said earlier. I got shot during a heist gone wrong, so my boyfriend and I managed to escape to Blaine County," I looked down at the floor, quickly reliving that day. Will there ever be a day I won't think about it?

"Shit," Johnny sighs. "That's rough. But who is this boyfriend you've mentioned twice now? He doesn't seem like a very good one if he's letting a pretty thing like you around Sandy Shores alone. There's a killer on the loose out there."

"His name is Trevor, and he's a great guy. He's the reason I'm alive right now, and I can take care of myself."

"Trevor?!" A look of shock washes over his face. "Trevor Philips?"

"Oh, good," I say sarcastically, "you've met."

"That crazy motherfucker tried negotiating with us to sell meth in our territory! And you're _with_ him? You must have a screw loose somewhere."

"You know, he didn't always used to be like that," I laugh sadly, "but considering what he's been through it makes perfect sense. But I guess big, bad biker man, Johnny Klebitz, is perfect." I say stoically.

"Look, I didn't mean to insult you. I just... I-"

"You just liked me until you assumed, and you know what they say about that. I am _not_ like Trevor," I take a swig from my bottle, "but I wish I was."

Johnny stares at me for a few seconds, taking in what I said. "No, I still like you. You remind me of someone very special to me. I'm just surprised is all."

"Yeah, well, me too sometimes. And for his sake, can we make a deal?"

"Sure, I guess," he sighs.

"Let him have Sandy Shores. It's a small area in Blaine County, but it will tide him over for the time being. If there's ever any trouble with him again, come find me. I'm always here in town."


	71. Flashback #26

_**One.** The familiar red mist dirties the snow. Brad falls. **Two.** Another spurt of red empties itself from Michael's chest. The ringing in my ears gets louder. Trevor is shouting to me. Michael yells to us that he's bleeding out. Trevor tries to give me direction, but I can't hear him. He pulls me to my feet by my arm and we go running. **Three.** This time the bullet enters the back of my head and I can feel it tear through the front._

I wake up screaming and in a cold sweat. Trevor is startled from sleep and looks around in a panic. He grabs me into a tight hug to keep me grounded in reality. My hand covers my forehead as the pain carries over into my wakened state. I burst out crying and sob loudly, on the verge of screaming. Trevor slowly sways with me as he holds me. I know it's around two in the morning because that's about the average time this happens. I can't do this shit anymore.

We're sitting on a mattress in the corner of the liquor store upstairs, awake at two in the morning in the middle of the desert. This was a lot for _me_. It's been months now and I still struggle with sleep. I can't begin to imagine how _he_ feels. We don't really talk about it. I don't really even want to think about it. My dreams, the one release I get from reality, isn't even an escape for me. Trevor just has to sit back and watch it happen. It could either be no big deal for him, or he's letting it all fester inside of him.

"Shhh. Shhh. It's ok. You're safe. You're in Sandy Shores with me," Trevor whispers into my ear. My loud sobs nearly drown him out. I can't do this anymore. I don't want to think about it. I just want it to end. To end. _To end._ **To end...** He can tell something is different this time, so he just holds me until I show the slightest sign of calming down. When he's sure I can hold a conversation, he holds his head in my hands and looks me dead in the eyes. "We need to talk, (your name)."

I push his hands off and get to my feet. "No, we don't. Just go back to sleep." I'm in one of his t-shirts and a raggedy pair of shorts. The t-shirt is adhered to my body by sweat and I can feel it running down my legs as wind blows through the glassless window. I can't take a shower until we go back to the bar we first stayed at, so I just go downstairs to grab a water out of one of the refrigerators. I drink some and then pour a little of it on the back of my neck and matted hair over a sink. 

When I go back upstairs, he's still sitting upright like he is waiting for me. "I let you push me away for months about this. We _do_ need to talk."

I strip off his t-shirt and the shorts I'm wearing and rifle through a pile of semi-washed clothes. I find another one of his shirts and put it on, not bothering with pants anymore considering how much I'm sweating. I lay back down next to him on the mattress, facing away. "Goodnight, T."

"No," he says angrily as he grabs my arm and rolls me over to face him. 

I give him a nasty look for how hard he grabbed me. I don't like where this is going. I yank my arm away from him, letting him know my disgust. He grabs me again and I flail my arms in an attempt to get away. It's like I forgot all the height and strength he has on me, because he manages to get my small, delicate wrists on his hands fairly quick and he pins me to the ground as I begin to kick with extreme anger. He straddles me and entertains his legs with mine so that I can't move at all anymore. I can feel tears coming to my eyes.

"Are you ready to talk now?!" He yells in my face. He pants in anger with his face inches from mine.

"What choice have you given me?" I say quietly and shakily.

"You're fucking right! I'm sick of you not letting me be there for you! I told myself that I'd let you come talk to me when you were ready, but you never fucking are! I love you and I don't want to see you this way anymore! It really hurts me to see you waking up so scared and helpless and then get mad at me for wanting to talk it out! That's not fucking fair! It's fucking bullshit!" A tear rolls down my cheek and I hope he doesn't see it in the darkness, but there's just enough light so he does. "Don't start crying because then I'm going to cry and I'm not in the mood for that!"

I stay quiet for a second, pushing back the tears with hard blinks and swallows. "You only want to be there for me when it benefits you," I choke up.

"What the actual fuck are you talking about?!" He gives me a strange look.

"You act like it's so hard for you to go through all this and you're just trying to help me, but you're not! You're trying as hard as possible to not be present!"

" _What_ are you talking about?!" 

"You're smoking meth all the fucking time again! How many times _now_ have you said that you're going to stop and you haven't?! I need you the most now and you're too busy trying to forget it all by smoking that shit!" I roar at him, our faces still close together.

He pauses and just stares at me with a look of emotional pain on his face. "I have _never_ been high when you've needed me. I only do it when you decide to leave for hours on end."

"Oh, so now it's my fault you're smoking again and I don't want to smell like the meth you're cooking?!"

"No! Jesus, no! Fucking christ!"

"You can't even get hard when you're smoking up, Trevor!"

"Oh come on! You know I'm sensitive about that!" He says through gritted teeth. "That's besides the point as it is! When are you going to learn that your problems are not going to fix themselves by me shoving my dick in you all the time? I'm sick of being used as a distraction. It hurts!" I can see his eyes start to glisten. He gets up off me and rubs his face as he faces the opposite wall. "Fuck!" He yells as he punches a hole in the wall.

"Trevor," I say quietly, "I _never_ meant to make you feel like a distraction."

He turns back around to face me and outstretches his arms, "Then why don't you just fucking talk to me?! Huh?!"

I sigh, "Then let's talk."

"First, I want to know who that fucking guy is that you clearly knew! The one you shot point-blank! That has been plaguing my mind like a fucking disease ever since!"

"Come here," I say softly as I pat the mattress beside me. He looks at me like 'Now? Really?' "Come here," I say more sternly. He reluctantly lumbers over and plops himself down beside me on the mattress, still looking me directly in the eyes. "You know my parents were in the public eye a lot. My father was a public official in town for many years."

"Yes, I know," Trevor says eagerly awaiting the rest of the story.

"Well, naturally the public officials had good relations with the emergency response teams. That guy was the chief of police and my father happened to be very good friends with him. My father invited him to dinners and such that my mother and I had to attend too," I stop and think about the way to tell Trevor the next part.

"Go on," Trevor grows impatient.

"There were two separate occasions where he abused his friendship with my father," I looked down at the mattress between us. 

Trevor lifted my chin up, looking at me still. "You can tell me."

"It's not even really that bad," I tell him.

"Then what?"

"He grabbed my ass while we were in a group talking with others one time," I said quickly to rip off the metaphorical band-aid.

Trevor rolled his eyes in disgust, "What a fuckin' sleaze," he takes a moment to process it. "Well, what about the other time? You said there were two instances."

"The other time," I inhale, "he slipped his hand between my legs when we sat next to each other at dinner." Trevor's jaw clenches. "Trevor?" I say innocently, trying to keep him from getting upset over something that happened years ago.

"If he was still alive," he exhales and laughs angrily with his mouth closed. "I'd kill him all over again!" Trevor takes another minute or so to process this new information. "Did he ever do anything else?"

"No, I promise. I managed to get other dirt on him and I told my father. He was never invited to another dinner after that."

"Good," Trevor said dryly. Another minute or so passes and he finally asks, "What was your dream about a little while ago? You've never been quite that upset before."

"It was about the heist going wrong, as it always is. This time though," I cringed, remembering the pain, "the bullet hit me in the back of the head and I could feel it exit between my eyes. It felt so _real_." I began to tear up.

He sighed and hugged me closely. "We're going to have to find a way to get this under control. You shouldn't have to live like this."

"What about you?" I mumble into his shoulder.

"I know I've promised this a lot before, but I'm done too. It's stupid, childish, and selfish of me to use when you need support, but I need it too. That's why it keeps happening. I need you to talk to me about this stuff. I'm not blaming it on you, but I only feel the need to use when I feel isolated."

"No, no, it makes sense. I understand. I'll try to be a better source of support for you too. I'm not the only one who needs it and it's selfish of me to act like I am. I'm sorry, Trevor."

"No, I'm sorry, cupcake." He squeezes me tighter. "This is seriously the most productive talk we've had in a long time."

"I know. We were lost before. We still are, but I think we've both had a rude awakening."

"I think you're right," he smiles.

We both lay back down, but he is sure to cuddle up to me. Even though it's hot as hell outside, it's what I need. I need to know he's right there, even in sleep. He also needs to know that I'm right beside him. This entire time, I've been consumed with the fear and anger of almost losing him, even in my sleep. I've been harassed by the vivid memories of each tiny little detail of it. While I was trying to deal with it on my own and pushing Trevor away, I failed to see that he needs the same validation. He needs to feel me beside him and be reminded that I made it through. _We_ made it through. We both needed that affirmation equally.


	72. The Slaughterhouse

I'm shocked it's even still standing. When Trevor and I first got to Sandy Shores, I thought for sure Lester would find a way to adhere to the old plan and destroy it. It's clear that no one has been here since we were all those years ago. Various holes in the wall from Trevor's fits of rage were left to the elements and had gotten bigger. I stand in front of the front door for a while, not wanting to go inside. Trevor puts a hand on my shoulder and turns the doorknob. I slightly flinch as the door creaks open. The whole place looks more sinister given what we know came after.

Trevor motions for me to stay back as he steps inside and looks around. When he deems it safe, I still can't pass the threshold. I don't want to. He takes my cold hands in his and pulls me into the building. I look around, as if waiting for something or someone to jump out. He seems eerily comfortable.

"I'm really eager to see upstairs," he says as he makes his way tot he stairs that go up into the small apartment above the store. I grab the back of his coat, not wanting to be left alone. 

"It's so creepy here. Why are you so excited?"

"I'm not excited. I'm just curious to see what became of this place. It was old even when we lived here," he says as he opens the door at the top of the steps.

It looks untouched from the last day we were here. All the furniture is here and in the spots we left them. The two couches and the old piece-of-shit coffee table were in the center of the room. There were some empty Pißwasser cans on the table in the kitchenette. That sends a chill down my spine. It's like we were all here yesterday. What's worse, it's like we all were counting on coming back here. Trevor surveys the main area and then goes down the hall to our old room. I follow him closely.

He pushes the door open and we stand in the doorway. Literally nothing is out of place. Squatters haven't even touched the place. Trevor is obviously more comfortable here than I am. He moves over to the dresser and opens some of the drawers. The first and second are empty. When he opens the third from the top, his posture relaxes. 

"Oh my god," he says quietly.

"What?" I ask anxiously.

He pulls something out and turns to me. "It's the jacket you got for me when I came home from Air Force training." He holds up the shearling lined denim jacket.

"Aw! I forgot about that jacket," I say happily.

"I didn't," he scoffed. "I thought this thing was long gone, but I always loved it." He removes the jacket he's wearing and puts on the denim one. "It's actually warmer than the one I was wearing," he laughs. He sniffs it. "It's clearly been sitting in a musty drawer for the last decade."

"Gross, T!" I laugh. "What else is in there?"

He rummages through the rest of the drawers. "Nothing exciting. Just the clothes we _did_ have when we lived here. And this," he says with confusion as he holds up a plastic cup with what looks like broken glass. "It was shoved in the back of the bottom drawer underneath some of your sweaters."

"Oh my god!" I snatch it from his hands and look at it excitedly.

"What is it?" Trevor asks innocently.

"Remember that fight we had about the cash depot heist right before we did it?"

"Yeah," he sighs and looks at the old wooden floor. "I still feel bad for what I said. I _never_ wanted you to leave. You're not allowed!" He pouts.

I laugh, "Yep, that's the one! You remember how you came home and my hand was all wrapped in gauze and I told you I had slipped and cut it?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was actually the one that broke the mirror. You made me so upset that I punched it. These are mirror shards that were removed from my hand when Mikey took me to the doctor's."

"Oh my god! Why did you never tell me that?"

"After a while, I just forgot about it. At the time I thought you'd be mad at me for breaking the mirror," I tell him.

"I couldn't give a fuck about the mirror, but I do care about your hand! Jesus!" He plops down on the bed and it squeaks loudly. We both cringe at the noise. 

"Obviously, I'm ok. It was very bloody, but it wasn't serious," I reassure him.

He's quiet for a few moments. Finally he says, "This wasn't so bad. Coming here, I mean. I thought it would feel a lot weirder, but it's ok."

"Yeah," I smile, "I agree. I was scared to walk in at first, but it feels normal. It doesn't feel like anything happened."

"Everything happened after we left this place, so we can still remember the good things that happened here."

"I guess you're right. However, it's freezing and it's still a little creepy."

"You want to go?" He asks. I nod quickly. He pulls what's left out of the dresser and we go back downstairs to the truck.

-

"Well how was it?" Dad asks as we walk in the door.

"I left some flowers for mom. I'm emotionally exhausted," I tell him.

"Graveyards will do that to you," he jokes. "Are you both hungry?"

"A little, and Trevor is always hungry."

"Good, I'm making my homemade chili," he smiles.

"I haven't had that in _years_. It's so good!" I say excitedly.

"Well there's plenty of it, so you can take some back when you two go," he says as he gets up to go check on the chili in the kitchen.

Trevor and I sit on the couch together. I felt more comfortable at the slaughterhouse than I do here in my father's living room. I remember what Trevor had said. The Slaughterhouse was comfortable because we had good times there and the cash depot heist happened after it. This is the second time I've been in this living room, and both times I could only think about when I left. My life was nonexistent here. I had to play a role that wasn't me and I fell apart here. I wasn't _me_ here.


	73. Past and Present

As the truck slowed to a stop in our driveway, I sleepily picked my head up from the headrest. I hadn't slept very well while we were in North Yankton and it was a long trip home. My phone vibrates in my pocket. Groggily, I pull it out and answer it without looking at the screen. Trevor looks as if he was going to say something, but he just watches curiously.

"Hello," I answer quietly.

"Hey, it's me."

"Oh, hey, Mikey. We just got home. What's up?"

"I thought you two've been home for a few days now. Well, never mind then. Sorry I bothered you," he says sheepishly.

"Come on. You're never bothering me. Seriously, what's up?" I urge him to continue.

"Well," he starts, "Amanda and I have talked about this a lot. She and my therapist, Dr.Friedlander, think it'd be a good thing for you both to join me for a session."

I pause. "I think it would be a good thing, especially for Trevor," I look at him and he's giving me an odd look. "I just don't know how to get him on board."

"I thought about that," Michael sighs. "You could tell him it'd be an opportunity to embarrass me and yell at me in front of others."

We both laugh. "I'll see what I can do," I reassure him. "When did you need us?"

"I was thinking you two could come to the session today at two," he says quickly.

"That's short notice, but again I'll see what I can do," I scratch my head.

"Thanks, (your name)," he says sincerely.

"No problem, Mikey." We end the call and I shove my phone back in my pocket. I get out of the truck and Trevor goes to grab the luggage out of the back.

"What was that about?"

"Michael wants us to go to a therapy session with him," I inform him.

Trevor laughs, but then stops when he sees that I'm serious. "We're all beyond help. What's the point?"

"I think it would do you both a lot of good to vent in a productive and structured environment for once," I say sternly.

Trevor grumpily lugs the suitcases in and just drops them in the foyer with a loud thud. "Is there any getting out of this?"

"No," I say curtly.

"Fine," he pouts, "but I'm not going to like it."

-

The truck flies down the highway near the beach. A row of beach houses pass in a blur, along with the other cars on the road. I watch the speedometer climb and know that Trevor is already taking out his anger on the road ahead of him. He looked expressionlessly into space. I don't think any of us are particularly excited about this, but we all understood the good that could come from it. We spot Michael up ahead and Trevor parks the truck behind Michael's black Tailgater. I get out and hug him hello.

"Ready to do this?" I ask encouragingly.

"As I'll ever be," he sighs.

"Same here," Trevor grumbles.

Michael ascends a staircase around the corner of the building, and we follow. He's greeted by a man with unruly dull brown hair and a poorly groomed goatee, but he was dressed nicely. He and Michael chat for a minute or so. Then, Michael introduces us. Dr.Friedlander looks us over. He and Trevor grimace at one another. Finally, he ushers us three to the couch. Michael sits closest to his therapist, then me, and Trevor to my right. 

"Shall we start where we left off the last time, Michael?" Dr.Friedlander smiles at him, and I swear it looks like a villain watching their captured nemesis.

"I don't know," Michael scratches the back of his head nervously. "It doesn't pertain to them and they don't want to hear it."

"We've discussed how your lack of ability to open up hinders your ability to move forward," he presses Michael to finish the conversation, whatever it was.

"I don't know," Michael shakes his head slowly.

" _Michael_ ," Dr.Friedlander says in a sing-song manner.

Michael stares at his clasped hands for a few seconds and Trevor and I watch uncomfortably. It reminded me of those awkward times when you would be over at a friend's house and their mother would scold them relentlessly in front of you, and all you could do was watch it unfold. Finally, he looks at his therapist. "Ok, no, I haven't cheated on my wife and I still haven't picked up any hookers. Happy?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Friedlander says smugly.

"Ok, what the hell is going on?" Trevor intervenes.

"Mr.Philips, is there something you'd like to add?"

"Not really, I just don't think that was called for. That's saying something if I'm calling you out," Trevor says matter-of-factly. Michael looks at Trevor gratefully.

"Did something resonate with you?"

"What? I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, but I just think that was a dick thing to do when he clearly didn't want to bring it up in front of us." I have to say, I'm very proud of Trevor for sticking up for Michael.

"What kind of traumas have you been through, Mr.Philips?" Dr.Friedlander squints at Trevor.

"I didn't come here to be condescended by a man that looks like he should be painting 'happy little trees', ok?!" He says angrily through gritted teeth and moves to the edge of his seat, like he's ready to pounce. Michael and I watch with anticipation at how this might progress.

"You're a very angry man, Mr.Philips."

"No _**shit**_ , Sherlock! You're really getting me going," he gives Friedlander a look that we've seen before. It's a warning.

"Ok," Michael tries to refocus everyone before Trevor rages, "I'd like to talk about why I brought you two here today." This grabs Trevor's attention and he listens attentively to Michael. "I know we'll never put Ludendorff behind us, but I want you both to know that I will always be sorry. I know that can't take back anything that happened, but I feel awful about it every single day."

"You should!" Trevor laughs.

"Trev," I say sternly.

"No, he's right. I did something really awful to the only people I could ever truly be myself with," he purses his lips.

"I'm not going to argue that," I smile, "but you can't keep thinking about it and blaming yourself. That's not fair to _you_. I mean, yes, it was a really shitty thing to do and I have scars, physically and mentally, that I'll always have. However, I think you saved our lives, Michael."

"Wait," Dr.Friedlander interjects himself into the conversation, "this is (your name)?" He points at me with his pen, but asks Michael.

"Yeah, I thought that was obvious," Michael says awkwardly.

Friedlander smiles weirdly. "When you said Trevor and his wife were coming, I didn't realize they were together."

Michael squints at his therapist. "How many years have I been coming to you, talking about my past, and you didn't realize they were together?"

"You mentioned that Trevor and (your name) were together when you were engaging in criminal activity, but I didn't realize they stayed together all this time." Dr. Friedlander looks absolutely intrigued. "I'd love to speak to you two. I bet you two have some interesting things to say." Trevor and I look at him uncomfortably and then look at Michael, who is looking at his therapist like he has ten heads.

"Anyway," Michael says as he shakes his head and looks back at Trevor and I, did you two open up the box I gave you on your wedding day?"

Trevor and I look at each other guiltily. "Shit. No, Mikey. We forgot about it," I say honestly.

"It's ok. I brought it up so quickly and told you guys not to worry about it later. It's your cut from the Ludendorff job."

"Michael," I sigh.

"I know it's late, but it's my attempt at doing a small thing to make it somewhat right."

"We can't take that, Michael. It's not necessary."

"You have to because I'm not taking it back," he says with a smile.

"We don't need it like we did back then. Really. It's too much."

"Then invest it or something, but I don't want it. It's not mine anyway," Michael says.

"That's the first honest thing you've ever done, Mikey. Way to finally be a stand up guy," Trevor jeers.

Michael rolls his eyes, "Bite me."

I look down at my feet and a thought pops in my head as the room goes silent. "I'd like to say something."

"Go ahead," Dr. Friedlander says with the same smug smile.

I look at Michael. "I've had a long time to think about the cash depot job and process it. I'll never be completely over it, but for the most part I can forget about it when I'm around you. I don't hold it over your head. However," I take a deep breath in and all the guys are looking at me with anticipation, "it really bothers me that you had Brad buried in your place."

Michael nods and shrugs, "That's fair."

"You could have given him a proper burial and filled your casket with rocks or something," I suggest like something can be done about it now.

"You're right. The only thing I was thinking about back then was myself, and I made some sloppy mistakes. Brad could be a real dick, but he probably didn't deserve that." Says Michael.

Trevor nods, taking in everything being said. "I have something to say too."

"Oh lord," I roll my eyes.

"You complain a fuck ton and you're extremely selfish," Trevor says plainly.

"Yeah, I know, man." Michael admits.

"I'm not done!" He shoots Michael a look. "You always said how under-privileged you were, but you privileges for yourself. And you wonder why your family acts so entitled," Trevor scoffs. "Oh, and you act all high-and-mighty when we came from the same place. The difference is that you care what people think and you judge me for not caring what people think. Don't rain on my parade just because I live more freely than you do, Mr. I-only-kill-on-Mondays-and-Wednesdays!" Trevor yells. The room goes quiet. "But you're like a brother to me." Michael's face goes from shame to hopeful. "Don't let it go to your head," Trevor rolls his eyes. Michael scoots closer to me so he can group hug with me and Trevor. I hug back, but I can feel Trevor slapping Michael away, but Michael pulls him in anyway against his will. As the hug comes to an end, Dr. Friedlander stands.

"Well, that's all we have time for today," he sighs.

"Thanks, doc. I feel like we really got somewhere," Michael says happily as he looks at Trevor and I. "You guys go ahead. I'll be down in a second." 

Trevor and I give a vague, forced goodbye to Dr.Friedlander. I follow him down the steps and to the truck. That was, by far, the strangest experience of my life but it was also one of the best. I also felt like we all got somewhere. Trevor always carried around tension because of Michael and I think it felt good for him to talk a little bit in there. I also think it helped, whether he'll admit it or not, that it was in a more professionally grounded environment for that sort of topic.

"How do you feel?" I ask Trevor as we get to the truck.

"Like I shouldn't have said anything, but also a little lighter."

"See!" I smile at him.

Michael comes jogging down the stairs and approaches us. "Thanks for coming, guys. It took a lot to ask and I wasn't sure how it'd turn out, but I feel good."

"Good, that's what I was hoping for. Trevor feels the same way, but he's not going to tell us that directly," I laugh as Trevor rolls his eyes and gets in the truck.

Michael smiles. "I'll see you two around. Maybe we can have dinner again sometime."

"Sounds good, Mikey," I smile and give him a wave goodbye.

I climb into the truck beside Trevor as he starts it up. The engine roars to life and Channel X is blaring, as it always is. Everything feels in place. It's starting to feel more and more like old times with Michael, and we sorted through some other problems today. I can tell Trevor is coming around and letting go of the past more with Michael. We all just wanted our friends back more than anything, not to constantly re-hash the past. We all want to move on and heal, which is why it's becoming easier and easier.


	74. Flashback #27

"...and that's the last time I saw Billy," Johnny takes a swig of beer from the bottle he keeps his hands wrapped around. 

"You were into some serious shit back in Liberty City," I say.

He scoffs. "If you think that was serious shit, you should talk to him," he points behind him with his thumb in the direction of the bar owner, who was always watching us closely. "He's seen way more shit than I have. He was in some war and I guess he just hasn't been the same since. At least, that's what his cousin says."

I watch Johnny curiously, and the bar owner. They both looked like they had interesting, heart-breaking stories to tell. Those are my guilty pleasures, I guess you could say. Broken and angry people, just like me. My phone begins to vibrate in my pocket, which startles me. Johnny begins to watch me instead as I fish it out of my pocket. The display on the front says "Trevor". Quickly, I flip it open and hit the green button.

"Hey, is everything ok?"

"Yeah, cupcake, everything is perfect," he says happily. "Why don't you come back to the cook-site? I have some exciting news."

"Alright, I'll be there in a few," I look at Johnny, who looks disappointed.

"I can't wait," he growls into the phone and hangs up.

"I'm guessing you got called home for dinner?" Johnny teases.

"You could say that," I laugh. "You know I have to go. It's either that or he comes here looking for me and sees that his girlfriend is now best friends with the leader of his rivals."

"You haven't told him we're cool yet?" Johnny raises an eyebrow.

"Not exactly, but I will," I blush. "I'll see you, probably tomorrow, Johnny." I pat him on the shoulder as I make my way to the exit.

"Alright, I'll be here!" He calls after me.

I walk out into the searing sun and I can feel the heat rising off the pavement and sand around me. Even in shorts and a t-shirt, I already feel myself beginning to sweat. I throw my leg over the motorbike that we all used for our one means of transportation. Johnny appreciated it, being the president of a motorcycle club, but I found it annoying sometimes because of the necessity. We don't have a helmet, so all the bugs fly right into your face as you ride along. I resort to borrowing a shitty pair of sunglasses for eye protection that is always laying around the liquor store where Trevor cooks. 

Not but a few minutes later, I coast into the area between the liquor store and the gas station next door. Trevor steps outside with outstretched arms to greet me. A wide smile is plastered across his face, which honestly makes me a little nervous. He seems genuinely happy though.

He wraps his arms around me and gives me a lingering hug. Then, he pulls away and grabs both of my arms. "I think we finally have enough for our own place."

"Trevor!" I exclaim. "That's amazing!" I give him another quick hug.

"Now, I know it isn't much. It's just down the road from here, but it's better than nothing," he quickly looks guilty. "It has a bathroom, a bedroom, and an actual bed."

"Look, you don't have to sell me on it. The only thing around this area are trailers, and I'm ok with that. Anything is better than sleeping on a mattress upstairs in this place," I motion to the liquor store. 

He smiles, "I hoped you'd say that. Come on, I'll show you."

We walk back over to the motorbike and he gets on, then me behind him. He rides quickly, like he can't wait to get there. He follows the road straight until he can't anymore and then makes a right. Slowly, he approaches the next right and stops outside a trailer that's across from the Sandy Shores sign. He gets off the bike, but I take in the sight of our new place. The siding is muddy and the porch looks like it'll give-way any second. Scrap metal litters the surrounding area. When I look at the trailer next door, I'm immediately grateful for ours. Trevor holds out a hand and helps me off the bike. He walks me through the gate and up the stairs on the porch. He pulls out a flimsy key and inserts it into the lock on the front door. 

"So you already bought the place?" I ask.

He looks at me, "Uh, _yeah_." I give him a look. "The previous owner and I have an understanding."

"Did you kill him here?" I ask plainly.

"No," he replies off-guard.

"Then I'm fine."

Trevor looks at me with surprise and then pushes open the door. A musty smell hits us as we walk in. It's not my dream home, but I feel like I'm in heaven when I walk into the bathroom and turn the shower on. It's better than what we've had the past few months. At least now we won't have to wait to bathe until we can visit the bar where we met Chef, as Trevor likes to call him. I completely overlook the questionable stains and feel like I'm going to start crying from happiness as I flop down on the bed. Trevor watches me with pure joy in his eyes. He sits on the bed next to me.

"I think this will also help you sleep better. I'm hoping it will make you feel more safe," he says quietly.

"Only if you promise to be here with me," I say.

"Why would I be anywhere else?" He says seriously.

I sit up and look at him, "Then I'll be fine." I plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiles and then his face goes serious too quickly. He's clearly thinking about something. He looks away from me and at his hands. I crawl on the bed behind him and wrap my arms around him. He puts a hand on my arm and traces circles with his thumb. "What are you thinking about?" I whisper into his ear.

"I wanted to run something by you," he tells me. "We have a little disposable income now."

"Yeah?" I say with anticipation.

"You know that tattoo shop down the street?"

"Yes," I say excitedly, wondering where this was going.

"I was thinking about having something done. For Michael," he says quietly and stoically. 

I pause for a second, thinking about it. Trevor never striked me as the type of guy to care about body modification, but I thought it was interesting. "I like it," I say encouragingly. 

"Really?"

"I think Michael would appreciate it and it's a way for you to cope. Why don't we go now?" I suggest.

"Now?" He repeats.

"Yeah! It's only two in the afternoon and I'd like to watch!" I say excitedly.

"Alrighty then," he stands and we both walk back out to the bike. 

Sandy Shores is a complete dump, but at least everything we need is right here. We speed off down the road a short ways and Trevor pulls into the front lot of the tattoo parlor. I've never been in one and I appear more excited than Trevor. He holds the door open for me and as I walk in a man is just finishing up a tattoo. Trevor and I wait patiently until the other guy is settled. The tattoo artist greets me and Trevor.

"Who is getting what?" The tattoo guy says enthusiastically.

I push Trevor in front of me and say, " _He_ is getting a piece done."

The guy pats the chair for Trevor to sit on and they start conversing. I wander around the shop and look at all the clippings from magazines, band posters, etc. on the walls. I briefly leaf through all the designs to choose from out of the book. Over the blaring music, Trevor and the other guy sound like annoying buzzes in my ear. I turn around the tattoo artist is sketching out a stencil.

"Already decided what you're getting?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says with a hopeful smile.

A few minutes later, the tattoo guy turns around on his spinning stool and holds up the stencil. "How does this look?"

A cross, which is ironic to me, is wrapped by a banner that is adorned with Michael's name and birth and death year. At the bottom, the word _"Brother"_ stands out hauntingly. Michael was like a brother to all of us, but Trevor never admitted that. I look at Trevor and see that same hopeful smile spread across his face.

"It's perfect," he says and looks at me.

The guy places the stencil over Trevor's left bicep and transfers it to his skin. Next, I watch him assemble his tattoo gun and pull out some plain black ink. It really is quite a process. Trevor presses his elbow into the armrest of the chair and focuses on me. When the needle make contact with his arm, he bites his bottom lip. I can't help but let out a little laugh. A couple months ago, I never thought I'd be standing in a tattoo shop watching Trevor get tattooed. It was nice though. It made me feel just a bit more normal than we actually are.


	75. Connections

"I have to go see Franklin about business tomorrow," Trevor mentions casually.

"We're supposed to have lunch with Michael and Amanda tomorrow," I remind him.

"I already texted him that we can't come."

"Without talking to me?" I roll my eyes.

"I _have_ to. It's business. Business comes before having a leisurely lunch."

"Fine, but I'm dropping you off and using the truck for the day," I say sternly.

"Fine! You know, we should just get you your own car," he sighs.

"Why would we do that?"

"Because we can afford that a thousand fold," he replies matter-of-factly.

"We do everything together though. We've never needed another car." I go back to reading my magazine before he can say anything else stupid.

It was a dumb suggestion. He'd hate it when he realizes that I'd probably eat lunch with Michael and Amanda by myself and take Tracey out more than he thinks. This is what we're both accustomed to and it works, so why change it? Part of why it works is because we are not just a couple, but we have always worked together. We do business together, or at least we used to. Trevor also liked having me near all the time because he knows for sure that I'm safe. This was never a question beforehand. He must be hiding something. 

For at least a week now, he's acted as though he's preparing for something. He's been moving things out of the guest room that we put in there to store for the time being. A few times, I've walked in the room to ask him something and he's having a hushed conversation on the phone. I trust him enough to know it's not a woman, but I went in his phone when he was sleeping anyway. He's been talking to Ron, Chef, and Franklin only. I assume it's business related, but he's cut me out. 

I don't understand why. I've never done anything to hinder or compromise business. When I approached him about it, he told me it's nothing to worry about, I didn't do anything wrong, and it'll all make sense soon. I hate it when he speaks in riddles to me. We're supposed to tell each other everything. It hurt enough to have my questions diverted that I stopped bringing it up. I try not to care, tell myself that he'll work it out, and that he's doing this for my benefit.

Trevor grabs the magazine from my hands and chucks it across the room. I look at him and shoot him a look. I grab his phone out of his hand and chuck it across the room too. Luckily, it doesn't break. "My phone is more fragile than a magazine. Are you crazy?"

"Are you?! I was in the middle of reading that!"

He goes over to his phone and picks it up, inspecting it. "You've said all but two words to me the past few days."

"Because you're always doing business without me. Now give me my magazine back while you're over there," I demand.

"I've already told y-"

I cut him off, "I just want my magazine."

"What if I want to talk to you?" He says sincerely.

"Give me the fucking magazine," I tilt my head at him.

"You want the goddamn magazine?" He asks rhetorically as he picks it up.

"Yes! I've only asked like three times!"

He hurls it as hard as he can at the pillow beside me on the bed. A burst of air brushes against my arm as it hits the bed. Trevor's face is growing red with anger and then he storms out of the room. Now he knows how I feel. He can go have a tantrum while I sit here and read, completely unbothered. If we can't talk about the obvious elephant in the room, then there's no point in talking. He _knows_ I'm the kind of person that likes to talk issues out until they're resolved.

I grabbed the phone off the nightstand. I hesitated for a bit before I hit 'call'. The phone rang a few times. "Hey!" Michael's voice exclaimed.

"Hey, can you meet me at the coffee shop in downtown?"

"Oh but of course," he says theatrically. "See you there in a few."

I shove my phone in my pocket and practically leap up from the bed. I retrieve the keys to the truck out of Trevor's jeans that were laying on top of the laundry hamper. I run down the steps and pass Trevor who is in the living room, angrily pacing back and forth. He calls after me as he watches me open the door and walk out of it, but I ignore him. I hop in the truck and head to the coffee shop about five minutes from our house. Trevor tried calling me five times in a row on the way there and even sent me a few texts.

As I take the coffees I ordered for Michael and I out on the patio outside, I turn my phone off. That'll show Trevor. Michael's black shiny sedan parks next to Trevor's dingy pick-up. He lumbers over, displaying the sports injury he received back in high school. He sits down across from me and I slide the other coffee over to him. He thanks me and takes a sip. 

"So, anything in particular you wanted to talk about?" He asks, clearly sensing that something is on my mind as I tap my fingers against my coffee cup.

"Yeah, my husband is being a fucking asshole and the only one that gets that is you."

Michael giggles, "Yeah, I do. What'd he do now?"

"For about a year now, every now and again he'll get really secretive and tell me absolutely nothing. He gets upset when I start not wanting to talk to him, but what am I supposed to do or feel like?! After everything we've been through, there's something he can't tell me?!" I realize I'm practically yelling as I see people staring at me as they walk down the street.

Michael just stares at me and smiles. He exhales loudly through his nose. "He's never done anything against you, so are you sure it's something to get mad about?"

"Every time I try to talk to him about it, he says that 'it'll all make sense in the future'. What am I supposed to make of that? He's insisted on seeing Franklin alone to talk business and he always ends his calls when I enter the room. What do you think all of this is about?" 

"What's the worst it could be?" Michael asks, trying to help me see his point.

I think for a second. "That there's someone else."

"Do you think that's what's going on?" 

"No! Every phone call he's made or received for the last month have been to Franklin and our friends in Sandy Shores, Chef and Ron."

"You and I both know Trevor's sexuality has always been a gray subject," Michael jokes. When Michael sees that his joke doesn't ease my concern, he tried to change the subject. "Anyway, I believe you when you say that you don't think he's cheating. He's never done anything against you. I know you don't want to hear it, but I would just let it take it's course. He told you that it'll make sense soon, so just let it."

"But Michael, he's acting nervous and always acts like he's trying to hide something. It's too hard to pretend that everything is fine."

"Look, I completely know how you feel. The only thing is, what choice have you got? I'm assuming you've asked him about it and he's not telling." Michael says.

I sit there, letting his advice sink in. It's not what I wanted to hear because it doesn't guarantee change. Michael looks at me with empathy. Amanda and him have dealt with every problem you could have in a relationship. I really thought Michael would have some encouraging words of wisdom. His phone suddenly starts to ring. He digs it out of his suit pocket. He looks at the screen and then shows it to me. It's Trevor. I shake my head. Michael sighs and hits the decline option on the screen. Almost immediately, the phone starts ringing again. Michael hits decline again, but Trevor immediately calls back.

"He's not going to stop," Michael tells me as if I don't know.

"Do what I did and shut your phone off," I say plainly.

"Don't do that to him, (your name)," Michael says softly. He answers against my wishes, "Hey, T. What's up?...Yes, she's with me...She's safe, T, just a little upset...Well maybe you should have thought about that beforehand...I'm not going to do that. She'll go home when she's ready, but she needs time to cool off...Go for it. Lester recommended an app for me that prevents people Fram tracking my phone...Alright. In your dreams, man. Bye." Michael hit end and tossed his phone on the table. 

My eyes lit up. "Lester! He's alive?!"

"I probably shouldn't have mentioned him. You remember how paranoid he was about keeping everything low profile."

"Yeah, I'm just glad to hear he's still alive. Too many people have died," I trail off.

"You know, he would probably really like to see you again. I didn't tell him about you and Trevor coming back into the picture. I thought it would spook him out of town."

"Give me an address! I'll gladly go see him. Without Trevor, of course. We'll have to ease that on him." I laugh.

Michael goes in his phone and I turn mine back on, and I receive a text from him shortly after. "There you go." Michael smiles, "It does feel really good to have the old crew talking to one another again."

"I agree whole-heartedly," I smile. I check the time on my phone. "I suppose I've tortured Trevor enough. I also have to make sure our house is still standing."

"Fair enough. I hope everything gets sorted out," Michael says genuinely.

"It will," I smile at him and then walk off to the truck.


	76. Flashback #28

"Alright, listen up, you Lost motherfuckers," Trevor says as he slams the truck door shut. I roll my eyes and make eye contact with Johnny as he approaches me and Trevor. I smile and he gives me a nonchalant nod that Trevor didn't detect, thankfully. Trevor continues, "I want the land out near the tavern."

Johnny looks at me, gives me a look, and then looks back at Trevor. He shrugs, "It's yours, man."

"I'll give you to the count of- wait, did you just say I can have it?" Trevor's brow creases in confusion. The shotgun in his hand hangs dejectedly from non-use at his side.

"Yeah," Johnny says matter-of-factly.

"Well this isn't any fun. I wanted to fight for it," Trevor grumbles. "Why'd you give it up that easy?"

Johnny looks at me again and back at Trevor. "(Your name) and I talked it out."

Trevor whips his head to look at me and then back at Johnny. "Her?" Trevor points a finger at me.

"Yes, her," Johnny says annoyed. He looks at me and ignores Trevor, "See you at the Yellow Jack later, (your name)." Johnny turns around and walks back off to his Lost MC brothers.

I can't believe it. Johnny fucking K just outed me to Trevor. I knew it was starting to annoy Johnny that we had to hide our friendship. He was certain that if I went to Trevor, they could establish peace between their businesses. Johnny wants peace. After everything that happened to him in Liberty City, he was done trying to fight tooth and nail for things that weren't worth it. He's older and wiser now. I couldn't convince him that Trevor was the opposite and would take pleasure in being hostile with The Lost.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hang on a second there, cowboy!" Trevor calls after Johnny. 

"What?" He answers back plainly.

"Fuck you, Johnny!" I exclaim. I can feel my face growing hot. I want to grab the shotgun out of Trevor's hand and beat Johnny to death with it!

"Hey!" Trevor yells at me. "You cool it! I'll deal with you in a second!" He turns back to face Johnny. "What do you mean you two talked it out?!"

I take this opportunity and just start walking off down the dirt road towards a cement bridge that curved slightly upward like an upside down "u". Trevor doesn't even notice, which makes me angrier and I quicken my pace. It wasn't Johnny's place to tell him like that. I was going to tell Trevor! I just had to find an appropriate time. Now definitely wasn't that time! Thanks for nothing, Johnny! 

The setting sun was making it near impossible to look off to my right. I put my hand up to my face so I could watch the road in front of me. A whirring sound of sand being tossed up and the sound of an engine being muffled came closer and closer. Trevor's red truck comes into view in my peripherals, but I refuse to look over. I keep walking. I can tell Trevor is looking back and forth quickly at the road and me. 

"Where do you think you're going?!" He yells over.

"Home," I say stoically.

"Get your ass in the truck. We need to talk about this."

"No," I still won't look at him and keep walking. I just want to be left alone. I'll walk off into the hills if I have to just to get him to quit following me. As I watch Trevor drive at my walking pace out of my peripherals, I realize how ridiculous this is. When did I get so annoyingly dramatic? Oh well. This is what I decided to do, and I have to stick to it. 

"(Your name), please get in the car," Trevor begs. 

This time I just don't answer him and I quicken my pace. I get excited and feel a sense of triumph as he hits the brakes and stops following me. Did I just win this? A smile creeps onto my lips. Out of no where, I feel strong arms grasp my waist. They whip me around and I see Trevor for a split second before he hoists me over his shoulder. I squirm and beg for him to put me down, but I'm no match for his grip. Across the road are a few people unloading a van to go fishing on the shore. Trevor looks over and realizes they've seen the whole thing.

He waves them off, "It's ok!" He points at me still squirming, "She's my girlfriend!" They still think it's odd, as normal people should, but they nod to make Trevor feel less weird about it. I tire out and just about go limp. I watch his heels appear and then disappear in front of him as he walks back to the truck with me. He opens the passenger side door and manages to gently slide me into the seat. He shuts the door and gives me a very serious look, "Don't even think about opening this door when I walk to the driver's side." He doesn't wait for me to agree and I just watch him walk around.

He starts the truck up and starts driving us towards the trailer. "Why didn't you tell me you've been hanging out with him?"

"I knew it'd upset you. They're your enemies, but they're really good people," I say softly and honestly.

"I have so many questions swimming around in my head that I think it's actually making me dizzy," he says in a way that lets me know how betrayed he feels. Johnny and I just met up and talked, but it felt just as bad as if we had done the unspeakable. "I'm not mad. I just don't really know how to feel."

"You should be mad at me. I should've told you. You're just always so busy and stressed."

"I know, and this was a wake up call to put that in check. I'm not innocent in this either. I guess I've kind of been neglecting spending time with you. Work has been my first priority lately and that's not right or fair to you."

I squint at him. "You're being surprisingly cool with me having a secret friendship with your number one enemy."

He laughs, "I trust you, (your name). This is actually really good for business and I believe it will give me more time with you now that that's settled."

"So, you're welcome for hiding my friendship with Johnny!" I joke.

"Yeah, thanks," he smiles and shakes his head. "Just, tell me when you go to hang out with him from now on. That's all I ask."

"No problem," I assure him.


	77. Flashback #29

Rolling over and rubbing my eyes, I wake up to Trevor sitting on the edge of the bed and sliding his feet into his boots. He had already managed to get dressed without waking me. I watch him tie the laces on his boots and then cuff his jeans over them. He gets up and picks his watch up off the dresser and slides it onto his wrist, fastening it. I sit up and peer out of the doorway and notice that there's barely any light shining through the little window on the door.

"What time is it?" I ask him groggily.

"Oh, hey. I didn't know you you were up." He looks at his watch and speaks quietly,"It's about seven in the morning. Did I wake you up?" 

"No, it's ok. What are you getting up so early for?"

"I have to go pick up some supplies for Chef. He has other stuff to attend to, so he won't be available at any other time today. I'll be back before you know it. Don't worry." He walks over and kisses me on the cheek. "You look exhausted from last night," he smiles. "Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"You don't have to tell me twice," I say as I pull the covers closer to me. "Be careful. I love you, Trevor." I kiss him goodbye.

"I love you too, cupcake," he rubs my arm and leaves the room. I'm asleep again before he leaves the trailer.

-

I wake up again, clearly hours later. Light from the front room filters into the bedroom. I lazily scoot across the bed to Trevor's side, near the nightstand. I grab my phone off the table and flip it open, seeing that it's noon. I thought Trevor would have been back by now. I drag myself out of bed and get dressed. Afterwards, I peek in the bathroom to make sure Trevor isn't in there. I walk onto the porch and don't see him anywhere. I shoot him a quick text, asking where he is.

"Hi there, neighbor!" I hear a raspy, but warm voice call from my right. I look to the right from my phone and see a man, probably in his late forties or early fifties, waving at me. He has a smile stretched across his face and is holding a coffee cup in his other hand. He's wearing clearly outdates sandals and thick-rimmed glasses, khaki cargo shorts, a white tank top and a red plaid button-up shirt over the tank top. A fisherman's hat adorned his head, and as if he didn't look old enough already, a black knee brace stuck out like a sore thumb on his leg.

"Hey," I reply, taken a little off guard. "You haven't seen a guy around here with dark hair, a white t-shirt, jeans, and boots, have you?"

He takes a moment and thinks hard about it, "No. I can't say that I have, but I'll be on the look out!"

"That's ok. He should be here eventually," I tell him.

"My name is Ron, by the way," he says excitedly.

I come down off the porch and walk all the way to the fence to the right of our property. I reach a hand over the fence and Ron walks up and shakes it. "I'm (your name)," I smile awkwardly.

Ron still smiles, making me think this guy must be extremely content with his life. "I take it the fella you're asking about is someone of importance?"

"He's my boyfriend. We both live here," I motion to the trailer behind me, "You've probably seen him around before. He's always out doing something."

Ron senses my worry. "I'm sure he'll turn up."

A blonde woman peers her head through the back door of Ron's trailer. "Ron, you wanna refill on that coffee?" She smiles at him warmly.

He turns to look at her, "That's ok, honey. Come here and meet (your name). She and her boyfriend are our new neighbors!"

The woman shimmies over to the fence between Ron and I. She looks older up close. Ron puts and arm around her shoulders and she offers a hand to me and I shake it. "I'm Marie, Ron's wife," she says proudly.

"Like he said, I'm (your name). My boyfriend is Trevor. I apologize in advance for his behavior," I sigh.

They both laugh, thinking I'm completely joking. Marie waves her hand at me, "Nonsense! We're very tolerant. You have to be to live out here."

"Very true," Ron agrees with his wife. "Say, why don't the four of us get together for a barbecue sometime?" He suggests.

"That sounds nice! I'll have to get with Trevor and see when he's, well, not doing something," I smile, trying to match their giddiness and avoid the fact that I'm annoyed at Trevor. "It was nice to meet you both, but I guess I better go find him and make sure he is staying out of trouble."

Marie laughs, "Alright dear, it was very nice meeting you too!"

"Don't forget to figure out a time with Trevor, and get back to us!" Ron calls after me.

"Don't worry, I won't," I call back and wave goodbye to them as I take off down the street on the motorbike.

I make a right at the end of the street and ride down towards the liquor store cook-site. Trevor's truck, which Chef had gone to extremes to get back from North Yankton for Trevor, is no where to be seen. There's no way for me to know where he is and he hasn't texted me back. I send him another text telling him that I'm going to the Yellow Jack Inn to hang out with Johnny until he gets back from wherever he is.

I rev the motor in frustration and speed down the street. My favorite part about arriving at the tavern is the sound of the tires kicking up the sand as I turn off the road. It was like a switch in my brain that told me I could now relax. I parked the bike next to the familiar motorcycle and headed inside. Johnny was mid-laugh, talking to the owner who never cracked a smile. Johnny teases him about it. As I approach the bar, he uncaps a beer bottle and slides it across the counter. I guess I'm a 'regular' now too. Johnny notices that it's me as I grab the bottle off the bar. 

"Hey!" He greets me happily. "What are you doing here? You said you weren't going to be here as much out of respect for Trevor after I sold you out to him."

"As it turns out, I have no idea where he is," I giggle, which makes Johnny smile and stare at me. 

"Have you tried calling him?"

"No, it's no use. I texted him twice though and got no response," I say with a hint of sadness that Johnny picks up on.

"I know what'll cheer you up," he nudges my arm. "Come on." He leaves his beer on the bar and I follow suit. He walks out the front door and hops on his motorcycle, and starts it up. He grins as he listens to the engine purr. He looks at me with the devious grin still on his face. "Hop on."

My eyebrows raise. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah!" He says enthusiastically. He waves me over. "Get on!"

" _Ok_ ," I answer apprehensively. I swing my leg over and sit behind Johnny on his bike. 

"Just rest your feet on the exhaust pipes there," he points out. It makes me nervous not being in control of the bike. I slowly pick my feet up and rest them on the pipes. I wait for him to start backing but, but he waits for something. "You know," he says in a jeering manner, "you have to wrap your arms around my waist." I hesitate. All of a sudden, Trevor pops into my head. Reluctantly, I wrap my arms around Johnny's waist.

He backs the bike up a little and then slowly leaves the parking lot. Once the bike's tires hit the road, Johnny goes as fast as he possibly can. The motorbike is old and slow compared to Johnny's Hexer, which he obviously takes good care of. I tighten my arms around Johnny and feel the vibration of him laugh as I press against his back in slight fear and panic. Yes, I'm nervous, but I also love this a lot. I can practically feel my adrenaline levels rise. If he hit a pothole or a sizable rock, we would both be dead. That thought excites me more than it should, and it makes me concerned for my mental state. 

It always feels good to have the wind blow my hair back, out of my face. Since Johnny was driving, I get to look around at the little scenery Blaine County does offer. It's times like these that make me feel so free and like I can do anything and go anywhere. I wish I could tell my past self that life is going to get a lot harder, but I'll get everything I want soon after. I was able to leave mom and dad's, I'm with the man I'm madly in love with and he's madly in love with me, we live together in our own place, and I have an unlikely best friend that is the most genuine person I've ever met.

Johnny blares the radio, switching between Channel X and Los Santos Rock Radio every now and again. We continue riding around the county for a few hours until the sun starts to go down. He takes me back to the Yellow Jack and I realize we haven't said a word this whole time, but I feel closer to him. I get on the motorbike and we just sit in the parking lot.

"That was really fun! Thanks, Johnny. I needed to relax."

"I know. Maybe we can do it again sometime when Trevor lets you out of the house," he jokes. "I can even get a Hexer for you next time."

"Is that allowed? I mean, I'm not a member of The Lost."

"I'm the President. If I say it's fine, it's fine," he assures me with a slight laugh.

"True," I sigh. I dig my phone out of my pocket to check the time and see that I have five texts and three missed calls from Trevor. "Shit!" I exclaim.

"What?" Johnny wonders.

"Trevor tried to reach me, but I guess I couldn't feel my phone going off when we were on the motorcycle." I find Trevor's name in my contacts and call him back.

"Where have you been?! I've been worried sick! I went to the Yellow Jack Inn, saw the motorbike, but you weren't there! I've been pacing in the trailer for the last few hours!" Trevor says frantically.

"Calm down. Wait, are you crying?" 

"N-No!" He says, clearly in his 'cry-voice'.

"I'm fine. I just didn't feel my phone vibrating," I try to calm him.

"Ok," he exhales with a tinge of relief. He still sounded shaky though.

"Why were you out later though?"

"I have a surprise to show you when you get home," he says, trying to take his mind off of his paranoia.

"Well then I'll be home in a few," I tell him.

"Ok, just hurry and be careful."

"I will." I close my phone and put it back in my pocket. "I'll see you probably next week, Johnny."

"So, was he crying?" Johnny asks with a smile. He had been waiting to ask about that.

"Yeah, it sounded like it. After that score-gone-wrong, he's never been quite the same when it comes to my safety. He's taken on an extremely protective role because he blames himself for it." I tell Johnny honestly.

"Makes sense," Johnny says empathetically. "Poor guy. Anyway, see ya next week."

I nod and give Johnny a joke salute as he leaves the parking lot. I follow right behind him, but turn onto the road in the opposite direction. When I get back to the trailer, I leave the motorbike out front and propped against the fence. It was nearly dark out and I ran up the front steps. I take a few steps in and Trevor wraps his arms around me, relieved that I made it back home. I immediately feel guilty for making him worry, but it's like exposure therapy for him.

It makes me worry that as I've started to heal my emotional wounds, Trevor's have been neglected. He has enough as it is, and now I want to make sure he gets past what happened. It makes me worry even more as I notice his right hand is all bandaged up. Maybe I should be worrying more about where he is and if he'll come home.

"What happened to your hand?" I say with concern.

He smiles and sits with me on the couch in the front room. "That's the surprise."

"Huh?" I look at him with confusion. He peels the gauze off and then a layer of plastic wrap. He had gotten another tattoo! It was a small black scorpion in the crook between his thumb and index finger. He watched me in awe as my jaw dropped. "Why a scorpion?" I have to ask.

"I got it for you," he smiles sweetly at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I think it's very symbolic of who you are," he admits.

"You think I'm creepy and when people see me they scream and want to throw the nearest object at me?" I joke.

He laughs. "No! There's something always elegant about them to me. Even though they appear small and fragile, they're strong and can kill you with their sting."

I look at Trevor, who is smiling proudly at me. I smile back, "I really like it, and the meaning is really sweet. A little untrue if you ask me, but sweet."

"You're so hard on yourself. That's how I, and others, see you. I wish you'd let yourself see it." He embraces me and kisses me.

"Oh wait, I almost forgot!" 

"What?"

"I met our neighbors today and they want to get together sometime," I inform him.

He rolls his eyes, "That's what was urgent you needed to tell me right in this moment?" He plants a kiss on my forehead.

"Sorry," I blush, "I just didn't want to forget."

"We'll discuss it tomorrow." Trevor lays down on his side of the bed and pats my space beside him. I crawl to the corner of the bed against the wall, and lay down next to him. I face the wall and he drapes his arm across my waist and pulls me closer to him. I can feel his breath on my neck, which is strangely soothing. We both lay there, quietly. My brain starts running through the events of the day and noting how it got progressively better and ended perfectly. Before I know it, I'm drifting off with a smile on my face.


	78. Old Friends

I wake up to my phone ringing obnoxiously. I sit up, rub my eyes, and take a minute to remember where I am. I look around and recognize the living room. Trevor is snoring on the floor next to me. I grab the blanket off of him and wrap myself up with it to retain some dignity on the phone, even if they couldn't see me. Besides, Trevor doesn't have any dignity to begin with. I finally manage to answer my phone and see that it's Franklin calling. 

"Hey, Frank. What's up?" I greet him quietly.

"Why you whispering?"

"Trevor is asleep. I'll go in the other room. One moment," I quickly walk out of the living room and into the kitchen to start making some coffee. "Ok, what's the situation?"

"Trevor was supposed to meet me twenty minutes ago. I was just wondering if he was on his way, but clearly he ain't," Franklin exhales with annoyance.

"Shit," I look at the time on the oven. We slept past noon. "Sorry! I'll wake him up and drop him off within the hour."

"I'll count on it coming from you," he answers dryly.

I end the call and throw my phone on the kitchen counter and run back into the living room. I kneel beside Trevor and gently shake him until he wakes up. His eyes meet mine, and a devious smile creeps on his face. He brushes my hair behind my ear. His eyes fall to my hand clutching the blanket to my chest.

"Is it time for round three?" He says groggily.

"Not right now. You're late for meeting Franklin. Get dressed quickly and I'll drop you off."

He checked his watch that was laying on the couch. "Fuck! How did that happen?!" Trevor jumps up and searches the room for his pants and slides them on.

I run upstairs and quickly dress myself. I decide on a casual dress. Afterwards, I grab Trevor a clean t-shirt and take it to him. He puts it on and I retrieve my phone from the kitchen. I lock the front door after Trevor exits with his set of keys. This time, I get in the driver's seat. I have the pedal nearly touching the floor. Trevor places his left hand on my leg as I drive. We don't say much on the drive over because he seems still half asleep. He kisses me goodbye and lumbers off to Franklin's garage down the alley.

I watch him walk off until I see Franklin, who waves at me. My body relaxes and I take the truck out of park. I drive off down the street and contemplate what to do. I'm still tired too and everything feels kind of fuzzy. I think about yesterday, and then I remember something. Michael gave me Lester's address! At the next red light, I plug the address into the GPS app on my phone.

-

After about an hour and a half on the freeway, I turn down a road that cascades down a hill. I follow the rest of the directions, not trusting them fully. I slow to a stop in front of a dirty old green, one-story house. All the plants are dead out front and warning signs littered the area. I looked at the GPS, which says I have arrived at my destination, but I'm still apprehensive. I shut the truck off and get out slowly. I look around and notice how secluded the neighborhood is. I climb the steps and approach the door. A camera is pointed at the door. I swallow hard and knock on the front door.

"Who is it?" Lester's voice instantly took me back ten years. I felt my throat tightening. 

I look up into the camera, "Can't you see who it is?!"

"Yes, and that attitude is familiar too," he makes a snarky reply. "There's no way though. How do I know it's you?"

I think for a second and quickly dig in my bag. I slide my driver's license out of my wallet and hold it up to the camera. "Believe me?"

A buzzing sound comes from the door and then a click. "Come in," he says plainly. I push the door open and immediately notice stacks of paper boxes line the walls. He installed a security gate a few feet past the door. Jesus, and I thought Trevor could be paranoid. "I'm in the back room!" Lester calls out. I walk into the back bedroom and Lester stands before me, leaning on his cane. It was the same one he had a decade ago. 

Tears come to my eyes and I hug him. He winces in pain and I loosen my grip slightly. He wraps his free hand around me. I can hear his breathing start to stagger. He's starting to cry too. He pulls away and sniffles. "There's a couch over here if you want to sit." He looks away and try to wipe his eye discreetly. I walk over to the couch and sit down. He hobbles over and slowly sits beside me. "First, I want to say that you have to know I had nothing to do with what happened. I had no idea Michael was planning on having Trevor killed."

"I know," is all I can manage to say.

"All these years I thought you were dead, in fact. When I heard reports of what happened, it didn't sound like anyone made it. I still tried to keep tabs on all of you. The only one whose trail didn't go cold was Michael's. Look, I'm so unbelievably sorry for what happened, but doing anything to me won't make it right."

I quickly give him an odd look. "I'm not here to hurt you, Lester."

"Then what are you here for?"

I take a deep breath in and trace circles on the floor with my shoe. "If you thought I was here to hurt you, then why did you let me in?"

"I wanted to tell you that it wasn't my plan," he says softly. He clearly feels bad about assuming I wanted to hurt him.

"I know it wasn't. I've been talking with Michael again and he actually admitted everything. It certainly doesn't feel better knowing the truth, but it eases a small amount of the pain knowing he's racked with guilt. At the same time, he's one of my best friends and I don't want to see him hurt. It's the most confusing thing that's ever happened to me."

"Me too," Lester agrees. "I also have to say, for what it's worth, that I'm sorry about Trevor. I know you both really loved each other." He looks to the floor.

I take Lester's hand in between mine. "I have something to tell you."

He looks at me nervously. "What?"

"Trevor," I pause, "He's still alive."

"Oh no," Lester says in disbelief. He gets up and grabs his inhaler, taking a few puffs. "No. No! That's impossible!" 

"Please come sit back down," I ask him nicely. He does so, but reluctantly. He's so overwhelmed by the news that he's claustrophobic. "He has no idea that you're alive though. He doesn't know where you live or that I'm here."

He slightly relaxes. "How?"

"He and I ran off into the field behind that old barn after we saw Michael and Brad go down," I explain slowly.

"I don't understand," he says, baffled.

I sigh, "Looks like Michael didn't fill you in on anything. Ok, well I'll give you the short version of the story. After we got in the getaway car, the police started setting up checkpoints. We had to turn right across the trains tracks towards that old barn. Michael knew this would happen and had a guy waiting to snipe Trevor. He didn't have a clear shot and killed Brad instead. They shot Michael too to not raise suspicion. Trevor and I managed to run off behind the barn. I wash shot twice during the escape, almost died, but we met a guy at a bar on the outskirts of Blaine County who happened to be a medical school drop-out. He nursed me back to health and Trevor and I moved to Sandy Shores until Michael hit Vangelico's. Trevor was so sure Michael was alive from the news stories that covered it, so we set out to find him."

Lester takes in all this information. "So you two stayed together after all that?"

"Why would we not? You said yourself that we were very in love. Something strange happens to people that endure trauma together. We were already soulmates, but what happened in North Yankton forever bound us together."

"I guess that's why you two wanted to find Michael and that's the reason you were on my doorstep."

"Yeah, I think so. We endured something so unique and hurtful that only our group will understand. We're all bound to each other forever. I'm going to have to tell Trevor about you at some point, but I promise he won't meet you without me."

"Ok. This is a lot to take in, but I've heard crazier."

"Oh, and one more thing," I start.

"What else is there?!" Lester squeals angrily.

I hold my left hand up, palm facing me. "Trevor and I finally got married."

He exhales. "Don't scare me like that, but I'm happy for both of you. It honestly surprised me that Michael and Amanda got married before you two."

"Well, the reason they jumped the gun was because Amanda was-"

"Pregnant," we both say in unison. Lester nods. "Well," he starts, "I do have to say that I'm incredibly happy to see that you're alive and doing well. I have, um, missed you a lot, actually."

"Aw, Les!" 

"Between us, I always liked you best. You were the most normal and very smart." He smiles warmly.

"I always liked you better because you were rational and easy to talk to," I smile back. "I really needed someone like you at that point in my life." I happen to notice the time on the clock on the wall. "I better get going. I have to pick Trevor up in a few hours and it's a lengthy drive back. I wanted some time to myself at home."

"Fair enough," Lester sighs. "Thank you for the visit. It was much needed, even if I wasn't expecting it."

"Same here," I smile and give him a quick hug goodbye. As I'm about to leave, I take the pen on his desk and jot my number down for him. "Call or text anytime."

"I'll be sure to. Thanks," he says whole-heartedly.

-

I step out of the truck once I park in the driveway with a smile on my face. I replayed the visit with Lester over and over in my head. It warmed my heart knowing that he missed me and made me feel better that he didn't know anything about Michael's plan. This was one of the best days I've had in a long time. I walk up to the front door and slide the key in the lock theatrically, happiness spilling over to my actions.

I walk into the foyer, which is extremely dark even during the day. I go to hit the light switch, but I feel a warm and calloused hand grab my wrist tightly. The strength alone from the hand told me it's a man. He grabs my shoulder with his other hand and slams my back into the wall. It's not Trevor or any of our friends. _Oh god!_ I begin to panic. I survived North Yankton to die like this?!


	79. Flashback #30

Johnny and I parked the Hexers on the dirt path to the entrance of The Lost MC camp. I'm slowly falling in love with this motorcycle and I understand why Johnny swore by them so much. I secretly want one for myself, but I have to leave it. It's official property of The Lost and I'm already getting strange looks from the members of Johnny's motorcycle club as it is. They almost seemed like dirty looks, and oddly enough Johnny is the recipient of them too. From his own group? That doesn't make any sense.

"This is Terry and this is Clay," Johnny points out the two men to me. They both just give me a nod as a greeting with a stoic face. "They were members of the Alderney chapter in Liberty City too."

"Oh that's cool! The way you made it sound is that you ran off alone to come here."

Johnny chuckles nervously and scratches his head, "There's one more person that came with me from Alderney that I think you should meet."

"Lead the way," I smile and motion down the trail.

He gives me a pained look and slowly walks down the trail. We pass a few trailers before he climbs the steps to one in particular that has a make-shift car port. He bangs on the door and a woman yells from inside. "It's me!" Johnny assures her. The door to the trailer slams open and a ragged woman with short red hair and a gaunt face stands in the door frame.

"Why didn't you say so, Johnny K," she says excitedly. She wore a black button-up Lost shirt that she tied in a knot in the front. Her bra peeks out slightly and she doesn't seem to care. She also wears torn black fishnets and a denim mini skirt with boots. She notices me standing there and gives a sly smile. "Who's this?" 

"Ash, this is (your name). She's a friend. This is Ashley," Johnny introduces us.

"Pretty," Ashley smiles even wider. "What's your story? You're like a model compared to everyone else here in Blaine County."

I laugh, "Thank you, but my story is long and extremely complicated."

"So is mine, sugar," she exhales deeply, "Most everyone's is." Her expression grows saddened. It's clear to me that she's my age, but she looks a few years older due to drugs. I can tell by the scabs on her cheek and above her brow that she's recovering from meth use. Trevor used to get those too from scratching too hard when he felt formication start to set in. 

"I suppose so," I add. "So tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

She looks at Johnny and then back at me. "But you're hanging out with Johnny."

"So?" 

"I do have to talk to Terry about something anyway, so you two can catch up," Johnny says.

"Well, come on in then," Ashley steps aside and ushers me into the trailer. "Make yourself at home."

I plop down on the sofa that sits underneath the front windows of the trailer. A dust cloud rises up around me. She grabs a cigarette and lights it, offering me one. "I shouldn't, but I'm going to," I laugh as I take a cigarette from the pack. She tosses me her lighter. "I'll assume you and Johnny are together," I say as I take a drag. I haven't smoked in a long time, but it feels so good every now and again. That's why I never took it on as a regular habit; it's better when you haven't had one in a while.

She scoffs, "How can you tell? He's not very _showy_ guy."

"He told me he thought I should meet you and he just made you sound special. You seemed really excited to see him too. Plus, the entire chapter was giving Johnny and I dirty looks, so I assumed there was a girlfriend he hadn't told me about."

"And there you go. He doesn't talk about me," she fidgets with the cigarette between her fingers.

"Don't automatically think it's because he doesn't care. I think it's because he wants to protect you. He's much smarter than you're giving him credit for. Johnny always has a plan, whether we know about it or not."

"I guess that's true."

"So, what's your story," I remind her.

"Let's see," she thinks of a good beginning place. "I'm from Liberty City. I actually knew Johnny for years before any of us were involved in The Lost. We joined when we got older and he asked me out. Times were a lot simpler then."

"That's it?" I ask rhetorically.

"No, but the rest is all the ways I hurt Johnny and screwed up our lives. You don't want to hear about that," she says sadly.

"Yes, I do. It'd be nice to not think about the ways I've screwed _my_ life up for once."

She gives me an odd look, "You're definitely not like most people around here." She pauses a minute and then continues, "I got addicted to drugs. Real bad. I let them be there for me when I was down when I should've let Johnny be there. All I could think about was getting my next score. I'd do anything just to get a fix, including breaking Johnny's heart. I can't even count on five hands, if I had them, how many people I've slept with just to get a fix!" I listen quietly and I can tell she's uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she says, "that was probably a bit of an overshare."

"No, not at all. I'm assuming it was meth?"

She looked shocked. "And cocaine, but how can you tell?!"

"You know you have scabs on your face, right?"

She pats her cheek with her free hand. "I forget they're there. I don't see them until I look in the mirror."

"Make sure you wash them. Just because they were made by you doesn't mean they can't get infected. I've seen that happen and it isn't pretty."

"Now you have to tell me your story. You're way too beautiful and nice to have been around meth, so I'll take some convincing," she says giving me an untrusting look.

"I've only touched meth once in my life and I don't want to ever again, but my boyfriend was addicted to it," I tell her honestly.

"Now that makes more sense," she smiles.

"You're most likely going to be ok. He gets into all sorts of filth, so it didn't surprise me when the cuts on his face got infected." I laughed slightly at the memory, but Ashley gave me another strange look. "It's not funny," I say, "but he had to wear a bandage around his forehead for a little bit and it was funny how upset it made him."

"Your man sounds like an interesting guy," Ashley says.

My eyes widen, "That's one way to say it."

"Well, come on! Your story now!" She nudges my knee excitedly.

I start humbly, "I'm from a town just south of the Canadian border. It's small and everyone knew each other. That's where I met my boyfriend. He was just a drifter at the time though, but he pretty quickly had feelings and stayed around town for me. We dated for a few months."

"And then?" She moves to the edge of the couch.

"He signed up for the Air Force, so we were apart for some time."

"You're being so modest. Tell me everything! I can just tell you have a juicy history," she rests her chin on her hand. 

"I can't tell you everything," I look down at my legs. "I'm just not ready, but I will be someday. Until then, I'm going to be modest about my past."

"Ok, fair enough."

"So, he came back and I really didn't like living with my parents. We were extremely different people. So he and I moved to Canada, where he's from. He started a business and I helped him get it off the ground. We just did odd jobs until we moved here," I tell her.

"I can completely relate to being different from my parents. That's what drove me off to this life," she makes a circle with her arm, referring to the trailer, trailer park, and The Lost. "That and Johnny. I'd follow him to hell and back, but I just don't know if he'd do the same for me." 

"Look, I know a small bit about you now and I know Johnny pretty well. He's the kind of guy that would take his wedding ring off before work, not bring any photos to put on his desk, and not talk about his family. You're the kind of girl that wants PDA 24/7. You can't blame him for being different, just like our parents can't blame us for being different. You two just love in very different ways." 

She smiles at me and I swear her eyes tear up, "You're pretty _and_ smart. This is the best talk I've had with anyone in a long time. I'm sorry," she says as she dabs at the corner of her eye. 

"It's ok. I can tell it makes you feel alone. Hey, I'm free tomorrow. You want to go out and do something?" I ask her.

"I would _love_ that."

The door to the trailer opens and Johnny steps in, visibly trying to shake off business. His eyes see that he needs to switch it off, but I can tell he's having difficulty doing that. Ashley quickly gets up from the couch and goes over to him, like a 1950's housewife. She wraps her arms around his waist and kisses his cheek with a loving smile. His expression is blank. It's all starting to make sense now. I think I hit the nail on the head.

"I better get back. I promised Trevor I'd help him with some stuff today," I break the awkward silence.

"I'll escort you back," Johnny says. 

"It's really nice to meet you, Ashley. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sounds great, and it was nice to meet you too!" She seems excited just to have someone say goodbye to her.

I follow Johnny out of the trailer and to the bikes. "Can I talk to you for a second, Johnny?" 

"Yeah, of course," he looks at me seriously.

"Do you love Ashley?" I ask bluntly.

He laughs nervously. "That came outta nowhere. Why you asking?"

"Don't avoid my question," I say sternly.

He looks down at the dirt, "Yes, I love Ashley. Things are just, well, complicated."

"How so?" I question.

"Jesus, what's with all the fucking questions?" 

"Johnny, you're driving her crazy."

"What do you mean?" He looks at me.

"She hurt you and you're punishing her for it," I tell him.

"I left you two alone for all but half an hour and she told you all about us?!"

I shrug, "It's what girls do."

He pauses and then closes his eyes. "I don't mean to punish her. I just don't know how to feel."

"That's perfectly fine. You're human after all. Just know that she's trying to make it up to you and she's trying to show you she loves you, but you don't see it and she wants it in return."

"I can't move past it," he says plainly.

"Why is that?"

"Because she keeps doing it. She didn't tell ya that, did she?" Johnny's face is blank, but I can tell he's very angry.

"She's human too, Johnny. She's an addict. She's not doing it to hurt you."

"What do you know?" Johnny snaps at me.

"Hey!" I snap back at him. "I know a lot more than you think I do! Trevor was heavily into meth too! Quite frankly, it makes a lot of sense why she can't stop! You treat her like shit!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about! I've done everything I can for her!" He yells at me. The other bikers are catching on and start to get on edge. Johnny waves them off and shifts his attention back to me.

"You walked into the trailer and didn't even say hello to her. She got up, embraced you, and gave you a kiss. You couldn't even hug her back. You didn't even say goodbye, Johnny. You act like she's not there."

He thinks about it for a second. "You're right. I'm sorry. I love her and I don't want to be with anyone else, but I feel so betrayed. I don't think our relationship has a lot of meaning to her anymore. She's too far gone."

"You'd be surprised at the things love will make a person do," I tell him as I put my sunglasses on. "It sounds like you two should talk."

"Yeah," Johnny sighs as we both start the engines on the bikes. 

He slowly starts off down the road and I follow. We drive to the Yellow Jack Inn, our usual setting place. Another member of The Lost is waiting for us. I get on the dingy motorbike and the other biker gets on the Hexer I was using. I say goodbye to Johnny and ride back to the trailer I shared with Trevor. Ron was already in the backyard, cooking something on the grill. He sees me and waves. I wave back and tell him Trevor and I will be over shortly.

"There she is! My beautiful woman!" Trevor says as I walk into the trailer. He wraps his arms around me. 

I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. "I love you, Trev."

"I love you too," he says and then kisses the top of my head. I can hear him sniffing. "You might want to change before we head over. You smell like cigarette smoke."

"Oh, you're telling _me_ that _I_ smell?" I say jokingly. "You smell like gasoline 50 percent of the time!" I turn to get some fresh clothes out of the bedroom and Trevor gives me a playful spank. I give him an equally playful look. 

I pull out a pair of jeans and simultaneously decide I hate every shirt I own. I open Trevor's closet and pull out a black and dark purple bowling shirt. I lay the clothes out on the bed and decide to take a quick shower. Now that Trevor mentioned it, I can smell the smoke in my hair. I towel off my hair and pull it up into a ponytail. I walk into the bedroom where Trevor is eyeing my outfit choice with confusion.

"Is that my shirt?" He points to the bowling shirt.

"Yeah. I have a plan for it," I give him a smirk. I slide on my jeans and then start buttoning Trevor's shirt. I leave the last few buttons at the bottom undone and tie it into a knot. I quickly put some socks on and slide my feet into my own boots. "Ta-da," I stand in front of Trevor.

"Very nice!" He says encouragingly. "You should just take those shirts."

I walk to the door with him. "But I love the way they look on you! You should wear them more."

"You know what," he says, "I might."


	80. J.K.

My eyes adjust to the darkness. The plastic feeling of leather brushes my wrists as he pins my arms to the wall behind me. I close my eyes in fear and try to think of a plan. He moves so that his face is inches from mine and I can feel his hot breath on my face. I wait for him to do something, but it's as if he's waiting too. I slowly open my eyes again. Wait. The goatee. The scars. The broken nose that wasn't reset properly. 

"Johnny?" I whisper.

"I was wondering when you'd notice," he laughs.

Tears stung my eyes. How is this possible? It's not! I must be going crazy. He releases my wrists and I immediately hold his head between my hands. He's really there. I stare at him for a moment and he smiles warmly at me. He places his hands over mine and squeezes them. Emotion overtakes me and I feel the hot tears run down my face. Before I know it, my lips are pressed against his. He leans into me and picks me up, not pulling away. He walks a couple feet and lays me on the couch. My hands find the lapel of his jacket and I hold on to them for dear life, as if trying to make sure he'll stay this time. He climbs onto the couch and we kiss again, but longer this time. 

Halfway through, I realize what we're doing and I pull away. Johnny looks down at me confused. He tried to make a move to kiss me again, but I put a hand on his chest. "I can't, Johnny." He backs up and sits on the couch next to me. I sit up and stare into space. What did I just do? 

"I'm sorry," he exhales loudly. "I just thought-"

I cut him off. "Neither of us were thinking."

My comment makes him feel rejected. "Yeah," he reluctantly agrees.

"I'm just confused right now," I try to rationalize my mistake out loud.

"Maybe I can shed some light on your confusion," he says softly.

"I saw your body. I was convinced you were dead this entire time."

"It was A+ acting. That's all."

"How are you here? Why now? How do you know where I live now?" My mind is going a thousand miles a minute.

"I wanted out of The Lost. I wanted to cut ties quickly and for good. I went to Trevor and told him where my men planned to be so he could take them out and take the land. He came up with the plan for me to fake my death, and it worked beautifully," Johnny grinned.

"Ashley died because she thought you were gone," I say angrily.

"I know," Johnny lowered his gaze. "I heard the report on the radio. I'll always live with that guilt."

"Those letters you wrote to me," I trailed off.

He scratched his head, "You weren't supposed to ever read those, but there wasn't much I could do about it because I was pretending to be dead. I had to leave everything and make it look like this wasn't planned."

"Does anyone else know you were actually alive?" 

"Not unless Trevor told someone," he says as if it should make me feel better.

"Why did he keep this from me?" Tears were coming back to my eyes.

"We agreed it would be best if you didn't know in case anyone came asking questions about me. It was all for your safety. He and I have been in contact this entire time through your guys in Sandy Shores, giving each other updates. He said that you were aware that he was hiding something, but that he never told you. I gotta hand it to him, he sure keeps his word," Johnny explains. I burst into tears. I try to wipe them away to clear my vision, but it was no use. The floodgates are open and the emotions I've been wading through for a year are spilling out uncontrollably. Johnny scoots closer to me and places a hand on my back. "I thought you'd be a lot happier. He told me that now was a good time and that I could stay with you two. He said you'd be ecstatic."

"That's why he cleaned the guest room," I said to myself, suddenly realizing what Trevor has been doing right under my nose. I could feel my throat closing and breathing is becoming more difficult. "I need to be alone. I'm sorry," I sobbed as I ran into the hall, up the stairs, and into the master bedroom.

I continue to cry as hard as I think I ever have. I am happy he's alive, but this is too much right now. I'm furious at Trevor for keeping this a secret. I don't care what his reasons were. I think about calling him and telling him not to come home, but I need him to. I have to tell him. At least I'm honest and open with him.

-

I open my eyes and see Trevor sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at me. I guess I was crying so hard that I wore myself out and I fell asleep. Trevor moves my hair out of my face with a smile. His smile fades when he gets a better look at my eyes. They feel incredibly dry and itchy, so I know they're red and puffy from his point of view. I sit up and he watches me.

"Have you been crying?" He asks. I just nod and feel the tears coming back. "What's wrong?"

"Johnny," I whisper.

"I know it must be a lot, but we can talk about it," he says like everything is ok. He tries to hug me to comfort me, but I put my hand on his chest. The universal signal of 'stop what you're doing'.

"I have to tell you something, Trevor," I say in all seriousness.

"Ok, what?" 

"Johnny and I kissed."

He inhaled and exhaled, just looking at me. "What kind of kiss was it?"

"The kind you don't give to family," I hugged my knees to my chest with guilt.

"I know you too well. You both probably were just really happy to see each other again. I'm not happy about it, but I trust you," he says.

I squint at him. "That's it? You're not mad at me?"

He scoffs, "Do you want me to be?"

"I mean, I think I deserve to be yelled at for it. I kissed someone else, Trevor."

"I just don't believe either of you were acting on a clear head. I don't believe that you wanted the kiss. You're making me feel like you want to fight." He looks at me strangely.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. "I do think that what I did was stupid and I deserve your anger. I didn't mean for it to happen, but I was hoping you'd be angry about it so I wouldn't feel guilty about being angry at you."

"I don't understand," he says.

"I'm so angry I could actually kill you, Trevor. You made me carry around the pain of thinking I saw my best friend's dead body. Ashley has now died in vain based on the same lie," I said angrily.

"No one could have predicted that she'd overdose and it wasn't a lie. We just didn't let you in on the plan," Trevor tries to justify her death.

"She was a drug addict! And it's the same damn thing as lying, Trevor!"

He stands from the bed and now looks upset. "I kept it from you to keep you safe. If someone came looking for Johnny and you acted like you truly believed he was dead, then you'd be safe. They'd have no leverage. I did it for you."

"Yeah? And what about you? You'd tell this theoretical person that you have information and let them take you off to torture you?" I ask rhetorically. "I can't stand this. I'm so _sick_ of you claiming that you do everything for my safety and do fuck-all for you're own. That's not keeping me safe. That's setting me up for a miserable rest of my life! I don't want to be safe if it means you aren't too and I cannot believe you let me believe he was dead. It was hard enough trying to accept the thought of you killing him. Now I know that the whole thing was a sick plan?!"

"Nothing I say is going to make you feel better and I know that, but I'm really trying," he says.

I just stare at him in disbelief. "I think I need to go somewhere else for a bit. I need to clear my head."

"Whoa, wait. What do you mean?"

"I'm going to call Amanda and see if I can stay at their house. I just can't be here right now. I need to come to terms with this alone and far away from it." I get up and grab a couple suitcases from the closet.

"(Your name), please don't do this. I want you here. I want you to stay with me."

I turn to him and look him in the eyes, "I'm not leaving you, Trevor, and I'm not going to be gone forever. I just need some time away."

He starts tearing up, "I know, but I don't know when you'll come back. That bothers me. I want to have a day to look forward to. I want to sleep beside you and wake up to you beside me too."

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be," I say blankly, trying to detach myself. I don't want to break down again.

"This feels a lot like abandonment, you know," he says emotionally.

"I love you more than I love myself, Trevor. You're the only person on this planet I can say that to and mean it, but I have to do this for myself. I have a lot to process and I think it's better if I'm not forced to look at Johnny every day. I promise I'll come back, T." I close up my suitcases and call Amanda. I can hear Trevor behind me taking deep breaths in and out, trying to keep from crying and panicking.

"Hey! What's up?! Kind of an odd hour for a call, but I'm awake," Amanda answers happily, which just makes me feel worse.

"Hey, Amanda. I was wondering if I could stay with you and Michael for a little bit?"

"Oh. Yeah, of course! You know you're welcome here anytime. I'll have Michael come right over and get you. Ok?"

"Ok, sounds perfect." We end our call and I put my phone in my pocket. "By the way, don't call me. You can text me, but I'm not going to answer if you call."

I drag all my suitcases downstairs, and Trevor follows me. He clearly wants to hold me in his arms, but he's afraid of me rejecting him. This is not how I thought my day was going to end. About fifteen minutes later, Michael pulls into the driveway. He gets out of the car and gives us an apprehensive greeting. He grabs my suitcases and puts them in the back. I turn to Trevor.

My hand rests on his cheek and a tear of his rolls down onto my fingers. "I promise I'll be back. I love you more than words can explain, Trevor."

He takes my hand and kisses it. "I love you more than anything," he whispers.

We embrace and he squeezes me tightly. He nestles his face into my neck and I can hear the choked-back sobs he emits. We release and he quickly wipes his tears from his face. This is his worst fear and I do feel awful for several reasons. After I kissed Johnny, I don't feel like I have the right to be angry. In his heart right now, Trevor's anxiety is convincing him that I'm leaving him for good. I _never_ wanted to make him feel that way, but I have to get my head on straight. 

I get into the passenger seat and Michael backs us out of the driveway. I blow Trevor a kiss and he pretends to catch it. He waves goodbye even though his heart is breaking into a million pieces. I try to zone out by staring at the road ahead of us and just let Los Santos Rock Radio engulf my thoughts. Michael turns the volume down and tries to find the right words.

"Can I ask what this is about?" Michael asks in a way that shows he's trying to be careful. I open my mouth to tell him, but I burst into tears again. I didn't want to do this in front of Trevor or Johnny, but I know I'm in a safe place to let everything go. Michael isn't biased in this situation. "Whoa! What the hell happened? Did he hit you? I'll fucking kill him if he laid his hands on you."

"N-No," I manage to get out.

"Was he cheating? I'll rip his dick off and shove it up his own asshole." Michael takes another guess. I shake my head. "What then? Is this the thing he was hiding from you?" I nod this time. "Ok, you just calm down. We can talk about it when you're ready. I'll tell Amanda that you just need to settle in, you're physically fine, and that you're really tired. You should relax in the tub and then go to sleep. I'll take your bags up."

This is one of the reasons I love and appreciate Michael so much. He never forces anything on anyone. He's not making me tell him right this moment why I asked to stay at his house at around midnight. He made two guesses, but that was only to make sure Trevor was treating me right. He just wants to make sure I'm calm and relaxed. That's what I need most right now. I need to calm down, relax, and just not talk. Maybe tomorrow I'll want to, but I'm so done talking for tonight.

-

When we get to his house, Michael tells me to go on in and straight up the stairs. Amanda was waiting up for us in the living room and he's trying to help me avoid her questions. I quietly open the door and go upstairs to the bathroom. I waited until I heard Michael's voice conversing with Amanda to start the bath. Michael suggested it and it sounded very relaxing. I sat in the warm tub for about ten minutes until I realized it was too quiet.

I got out and borrowed a robe that was hanging on the back of the door. I quickly run across to the guest room. Michael had placed my bags in the room. I fish in one of the bags for some comfortable pajamas. I pull a pair out, but realize what I thought was my white boatneck t-shirt was actually Trevor's folded up white t-shirt. I borrowed one of his shirts like a week ago and must have forgotten to separate it after the wash. I carefully place his shirt on the bed and got dressed in my pajamas. 

I took Trevor's t-shirt in my hands and walk over to my side of the bed with it. I stare at it for a moment. I can't resist raising it to my nose. It smells just like him. I bury my face in it and can't fight back another wave of tears. I turn out the lights and curl up on the bed with the t-shirt. It's painful to not have him beside me, but I'm grateful for the mix up with the shirt. It's comforting in a way, and helps me drift off to sleep quicker than otherwise.


	81. Apart

Amanda enters the guest bedroom unexpectedly, causing me to jump. I slide Trevor's t-shirt under the pillow beside me and take the cup of coffee she hands to me. She sits at the foot of the bed in front of me with a saddened expression. I can tell she's dying to know what's wrong, but she also doesn't force it out of me. She doesn't say anything. She just watches me and I immediately remember Trevor's face as I was leaving and how alone he must feel. I bite my lip, to hold back the tears. I'm already tired of crying. My eyes itch terribly and they're swollen.

"Are you ok?" She asks with concern.

"Yeah, I'm ok. I just needed to go some place where I can clear my head," I say as I take a sip of the coffee. 

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I would like to know so I know if I need to hate Trevor's guts," she jokes.

That does make me laugh. "You already do."

"No, I don't. I just question his habits and how he chooses to live his life sometimes, but I don't hate him." I can tell she's being honest. I don't really want to admit my screw-up again. I regret it completely because Trevor is really the only person I've ever cared about in the long run and him being understanding of my foolish action made me feel even more guilty than I did initially. I also feel guilty about it because Trevor would _never_ be so careless to make the same mistake and I led Johnny on. I wish I could just take it back. "You know, he's already called Michael this morning." She tells me.

"I told him not to call," I inform her.

"Yeah, he told Michael. He said you told him not to call you, but he wanted to call Michael to make sure you're ok." She hesitates, "He asked Michael to tell you that he's sorry."

I rubbed my face. "Why do I have to be with the best guy on this shit-hole of a planet?" I say dramatically. "He shouldn't be sorry. I'm the one that's sorry."

"Did you both cheat? I just don't understand." 

"No! Why does everyone assume someone cheated?! We can be upset with each other without infidelity being the root cause!" I erupt in anger.

"Jesus, I'm sorry. I'm just curious as to why my best friend called me at midnight wanting to come here so desperately." 

I immediately feel even more guilty now that I wrongfully snapped at Amanda. "No, I'm sorry. This has nothing to do with you and Michael and I shouldn't drag you two into it. I can stay somewhere else if this is going to be too much."

"No, you're staying here. I just think it'd be good to talk it out with someone else. Maybe a different perspective would help, and I promise I won't be biased. I'll tell you if you were acting like a bitch or not," she smiles.

"I already know I acted like a bitch, but I'll tell you anyway. You know what, go get Michael. I'll tell you both so I don't have to run through this another time."

She jumps up and out of the room without another word. Amanda was secretly loving this and I find it funny. I get dressed while they're gone and sit back on the bed, waiting for Amanda to return with her husband. I can hear Michael griping from outside the door already. The two of them walk in and Amanda closes the door behind her. She sits back on the foot of themed in front of me and Michael takes a seat on the foot of the bed on the opposite side. 

"Well, where do I begin?" I say rhetorically to myself. "You know how I was a little passive-aggressive about the guest list being short for the wedding? I made a remark about how it was Trevor's fault?"

"Yeah, I remember," Michael answers. Amanda was listening attentively for the next part of the story.

"I was referring to my friends, Johnny and Ashley. They were a couple we met in Sandy Shores. Trevor basically beat Johnny to death and I saw his lifeless body laying in the dirt like he was nothing. Ashley was hunched over him, screaming his name. She later died of a drug overdose because she was so distraught about losing Johnny." I look over at Michael, "And you remember me telling you about how I became aware of Trevor hiding something from me." He nods in agreement. "Well, it turns out that Trevor was keeping it form me that Johnny was actually alive this whole time and just faked his death!" I pause and let it sink in for them.

They both make sounds that clearly mean 'you fucked up, Trevor', which I appreciated. "How could he do that?!" Amanda says disgustedly.

"He and Johnny both said I would have been more believable if anyone started asking questions about Johnny," I tell them.

"Why was he faking his death to begin with?" Michael asks.

"Oh, sorry, I forgot to tell you both that Johnny was the President of The Lost Motorcycle Club."

"What!" Michael exclaimed. "You and Trevor have friends in all kinds of places, I tell ya."

"Yeah, so yesterday I come home and some guy pins me to the wall in the pitch black foyer before I can turn on the lights. When my eyes adjusted, I recognized Johnny. I was so happy to see him and a wave of unfelt emotions just came over me and we kissed. That was my fuck-up in this. And I'll mention while we're at it that after I thought Johnny died, Ashley came to my trailer and gave me some things of Johnny's. She gave me two letters. One explained what was happening, and that should have been enough to tell me this was all fake because he was too prepared. In it, he said someone came back from his past, but he told me that everyone from the old chapter was dead except for Terry, Clay, and Ashley. Anyway, the second letter was basically him admitting that he had feelings for me. I should have been more careful because of that."

"Jesus," was all Michael said.

"So, I told Trevor about the kiss and he was very understanding that I was just happy to see Johnny and that I just missed him a lot. I got more pissed at Trevor than I should have because I was already livid that he lied to me about Johnny and I was even more mad that he accepted that I kissed someone else. I just didn't want to be around either one of them. I feel so betrayed by both of them. I think I could've lied well for Johnny instead of living with the image of Ashley over his body."

"But did he really lie to you? And why are you mad that he wasn't mad at you?" Michael questions.

Amanda lightly hits him with the back of her hand. "It's basically lying and it's because she feels like he doesn't care."

"What? That doesn't make sense," Michael's confusion just grows.

"If he had been angry with her, it would have shown her that he cares so much that he doesn't want her kissing anyone else," Amanda explains to him.

"God, women are so confusing."

She rolls her eyes, "You wouldn't know anyway, Mr.Five-Prostitutes-A-Night."

"Hey, not for a year and a half now!" Michael defends himself.

"Anyway," Amanda refocuses the conversation, "I completely understand why you're upset, but you have to know that Trevor just gets you like no one else. I feel confident in saying you're the only thing he cares about. Don't let this come between you two."

"I'm not. We're not. I'm not leaving him or anything, which he knows. I just wanted to get away to process all of this before I have to sit across from someone at breakfast I thought was dead for a year now and my husband who was talking to him behind my back."

"Men are shit-heads. What can I say?" Amanda says matter-of-factly.

"Hey! As a member of the male population, I'd like to disagree!" Michael says.

I laugh, "This is just what I needed. Thank you guys for letting me stay here."

"Of course!" Amanda assures me. 

"Yeah, you're always welcome here," Michael adds. "By the way, I don't know what Ms.Chatty Cathy here told you, but Trevor called me this morning."

"She told me."

"Alright, well, I'll leave you two to continue talking shit about men then. There's a re-run of Meltdown coming on anyway." Michael leaves the room.

Amanda waits until the door shuts again to ask me, "Are you really ok?"

"For the most part. I just feel so incredibly guilty. Trevor should be the one mad at me and I did tell him that I love him and I'm not leaving him, but he's going to tell himself I'm gone for good."

"You actually do have the right to be angry at him. He tells you everything, and this was a pretty big thing to keep from you. I don't think he ever meant to hurt you though." Amanda says.

"I know, but it still does. This is such a weird place for me to be in because I want to beat the shit out of him, but at the same time I just want to break down to him" I admit.

"Why don't you?" She asks, trying to help me work this out.

I shake my head, "It just doesn't feel right since I kissed Johnny."

"But he understood why you did that and he forgave you. He's your husband now and he's always had your back and your best interest at heart. Don't push him away now. Let him be there for you. I can tell you from personal experience that marriage certainly does change your relationship, but you two always understood what each other was feeling and thinking without speaking a word."

"I know, I know. I know I _should_ call him, but I can't hear his voice. If I do, I'm going to be a mess and want to go back to him." I say.

"Again, I understand why you're upset, but why is that a bad thing?"

"I guess it's not, but there's a lot I haven't dealt with and I think it's better if I'm away and deal with it alone. Being in the house with them will only make it more complicated for me."

"I get that," she sips her coffee, "but I've already scheduled mani's and pedi's for you, me, and Tracey tomorrow, so you at least have to do that."

"That actually sounds really nice."

"Good!" Amanda jumps up. "But today, we're laying in my bed and watching comedies all day!"

She grabs my wrist and practically pulls me down the hall into her and Michael's bedroom. She fiddles with the tv and I sit on the bed. This is all perfect and exactly what I need. I do plan on taking some time to reflect on things by myself, but right now I want to be distracted. Amanda always seems to know what people need, which is probably her maternal instinct. As crazy as her own life was when she was younger, she was always a good mother when it really counted. It made me happy to see that even though she had a lot of problems of her own, she could always love and support her children when they needed her. That gave me hope.

-

"It totally sucks that you're staying with us because Uncle T is being a douche, but I'm also glad! I love having you around! You're like soooo fun!" Tracey squeals as a nail technician tries to paint her nails.

"I'm not fun?! Who scheduled this appointment?" Amanda jokes with her daughter.

"Oh, yeah, thanks, mom. You know what I mean though! Aunt (your name) is like totally crazy, in a good way!" She says. "I totally have your back by the way."

"Thanks, Trace," I tell her. "but you know Trevor isn't a bad guy."

"Oh yeah, I know! He just fucked up. Husbands tend to do that. Right, mom?"

"You know it!" She scoffs.

"We both fucked up," I remind them. "But, Tracey, weren't you seeing some guy that you were really into?"

"As if," she grimaces. "He like sent a dick pic to my bff, so I dropped his ass."

"Good for you, Trace," I say encouragingly. Amanda and I laugh remembering the boy drama of our younger days.

It makes me think of Trevor when he was younger. One of the first things I noted about him was how drama free he is. I never had to worry about him two-timing me or hanging out with his friends more than me. That was mainly because he didn't have any friends, but still. Life is harder in many ways because I decided to be with Trevor, but he also makes it so easy. He's really the best man on this planet, besides all the killing and making people uncomfortable. 

He doesn't deserve what I'm putting him through and I realize I'm fucking up again, but it still doesn't feel right to go home yet. Something Michael said to me years ago comes to mind. I can be too hard on Trevor sometimes. I'm being too hard on him now. That's only because I know what he's capable of, and I realize I'm acting like my mother. Trevor is only human and humans make mistakes. He's allowed to make mistakes, and so am I. I've made so many recently.

I wonder what he's doing right this minute. I would guess he's probably trying to occupy himself with business and has his phone practically attached to him. I remember that Johnny is at our house now and I can't help but wonder what he's doing all day. What does he have to do anymore? He walked away from the group he gave his entire life to. He wasn't even bold enough just to step down and give his position to Terry or Clay. What a coward.

That's not fair either. Johnny worked his ass off to get that chapter up and running. He could do whatever he wanted with it. I guess I've just decided to be a complete ass to everyone in my life. My phone buzzes and I can already guess who it is. So can Amanda and Tracey.

"Is it him?" Tracey asks me as I look at the screen.

"Yep," I sigh with annoyance.

"What does he want?" Amanda asks with the same manner of disgust she had yesterday when I explained everything to her.

"To see me."

"What are you going to tell him?" Tracey asks nosily.

"I'm going to tell him that we're not at the house and we're busy having a girl-day."

"You're insane if you think that'll stop him," Amanda adds.

"You'd be surprised. He's very respectful of the fact I asked for space." I send the response I told Amanda and Tracey I would. He texts me back almost immediately. 

_I kno ur upset but we've nvr done this b4. I miss u like crzy._ I sigh to myself in frustration because I feel the same way he does. I don't respond and just place my phone down on the counter. This is good for us. Maybe it'll help him learn that when people go away, it doesn't always mean abandonment. Tracey and Amanda think I'm still irate with Trevor, but it lessened when I thought about it last night.

Trevor helped his worst enemy because Johnny was my friend. That alone shows how much Trevor and Johnny have both grown. Trevor set the guest room up for Johnny like it was family coming to visit. Of course I'm still upset that he hid their little plan from me, but I'm so impressed at how they put aside their differences and actually started to become friends themselves. I just wish Ashley could've seen this. She would never believe it: the day Johnny Klebitz and Trevor Philips work together. I hardly believe it myself and it puts a smile on my face.


	82. Apart II

Amanda drives me and Tracey back to their house after a day of shopping and getting manicures and pedicures. I enjoyed the day, but I'm ready to relax at the house. I'm hot, tired, and my feet are killing me. The three of us get out of the car, once in the driveway, and we start retrieving all the bags from the back of the car. I grab as many of the bags as I can, and when I look back up there's his red truck parked across the street. He's not in it though. I start grabbing bags quicker and Amanda and Tracey notice my odd behavior.

"Looks like someone has a visitor," Amanda teases.

I run off towards the door. "Absolutely not!"

"He might be inside, talking to dad!" Tracey reminds me.

"Fuck!" I yell and run back to the car.

"I'll go inside and check," Tracey says sweetly as she runs to the house.

Amanda grabs the rest of the bags and gives me a look, "Now you know how the rest of us feel when we know Trevor's around." She laughs.

"I want to see him, but I just don't think it's a good time for me. I depend on him too much."

Amanda puts her hands on her hips with numerous shopping bags hanging from her arms, "Is that what this is really about?"

"I don't know. I don't know! Just stop looking at me like that! I'm confused right now is all."

"I'll say," Amanda replies sarcastically.

Tracey comes jogging back out of the house and shrugs, "He's not inside and dad said he didn't even know Trevor's truck was here."

We all hear a loud noise coming from the walkthrough gate towards the front of the house. All three of us jump and look over. Trevor is stuck, bent halfway over the fence. He looks up and sees the three of us and tries to act casual about it. I feel a knot in my stomach and I want to help him. I can't though. I run to the house and slam the door shut. I drop all the bags onto the floor in the front hallway and nearly fall onto the bench that was in front of the stairs. I immediately start crying and shaking uncontrollably. Michael comes running into the front hallway.

He's looking at me sympathetically. "What's wrong? Are you ok? What happened?" He asks frantically. He sits beside me on the bench, scanning me for the possible reason. All I can do is shake my head. I can hear Amanda yelling through the front door. "Whoa, what's going on out there?" Michael looks back at the front door behind him and then back at me for an answer, but I'm useless. I grab him into a hug and he hugs me back. I can tell he's confused, but he's just going with it. "It's ok," he says quietly. He waits a while before asking, "Did Amanda or Tracey say something?"

I take a deep breath out, "No, Trevor's outside and I didn't want to see him."

"That bad?"

"No," I sigh as I put my hands over my face. "I just want some space and he doesn't get that! I've been gone for only two days!"

"What did you expect? You're his wife. He's going to want to see you and take care of you, and Trevor has never learned the meaning of the word 'no'. Let's face it." Michael says. "Why is Amanda screaming her lungs out though?"

"He tried to just jump over the fence, but didn't quite make it," I say plainly. 

Michael laughs, "Do you want me to go talk to him?"

"No! Please stay here. I just need someone to sit with me right now."

"Ok, ok, I'm here." Michael holds his hands up defensively.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Mikey," I sniffle. "I've never acted like this and all I want to do is go home to Trevor, but my head keeps telling me not to."

"I mean, you two have been glued at the hip for years. Maybe you just need time alone to do things yourself."

I shake my head. "No, I love doing things with Trevor. He's also my best friend and I love spending time with him."

"Well, he just let some big news get thrown at you and I don't think he understands how it's affected you. I've been thinking about it myself since you told Amanda and I; it gives _me_ a weird feeling. I did want to ask you something, but I know it's probably not a good time." He purses his lips.

"What?" 

"Do you think you're in love with this Johnny guy? And maybe that's why you don't want to be around Trevor?" He asks in a sensitive manner.

"No," I scoff. "Johnny's a good friend of mine. He's like a brother to me. I'm very much in love with Trevor and I do want to see him, but I'm going to lose my mind if I do."

"What do you mean?" He wonders.

"I'm such a mess in here right now," I point to my head. 

Michael pats my knee. "I think I know what you mean. You've compacted so many things over the years that it's all just going to burst out because you've had just enough of it at this point."

I sit up straight and look at Michael with wide eyes, "Yes! That's _exactly_ how I feel."

"And you've probably carried a lot of emotional things for Trevor and been there for him a little too much."

"Michael, yes!" I hug him. 

"I know the feeling all too well," he hugs me back, "and I know what needs to happen."

"What's that?" I ask curiously.

"You need to unload to him and let him carry the baggage. That's just part of a relationship. It's supposed to be an equal give-and-take, but this is what usually ends up happening. One partner takes on too much and the other one is oblivious to it."

Amanda and Tracey burst into the house. The drop the rest of the shopping bags next to the ones I dropped. Both of their faces were red from the sun. "Your psychopath husband just put a dent in the gate when it was unlocked this entire time!" Amanda exclaimed. She plopped down on the bench beside me and just started laughing. "Everyone we know, including us, are crazy."

"He was like super sweet though," Tracey added. "He just wanted to see you, Aunt (your name). He seemed like desperate just to get another glimpse of you. It was majorly cute!"

"Yes, but I told him that I promise you're safe and ok. You're probably going to have to see him at some point though so that he eases off a little. He looked really wound up about this."

I roll my eyes. "He's always wound up. That's just his personality.

"True," Amanda sighs.

-

I roll over and check my phone. Jesus! I slept in past noon! I jump up and get dressed. I brush out my hair and look in the mirror. I look _awful_. My entire week has been an absolute cry-fest, so my eyes are in a constant state of red with purple bags under my eyes. I'm just not feeling trying to hide it today, so I forego the makeup today. I go downstairs where Michael and Amanda are talking in the kitchen.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Michael jokes with a smile.

"Morning!" I reply happily. I take a seat at the island in the center of the kitchen. 

Amanda is unloading the dishwasher. "I was thinking we could have a movie marathon day and order takeout. Michael is going golfing all day and Jimmy's going with him, so we'll be alone."

"Sounds great. My feet have been hurting anyway and I don't feel like walking." I laugh. "I'll go set up the living room how we like it."

I leave the room through the dining room to get to the living room. I take everything off the oversized ottoman they use as a coffee table and move it outwards a little. Amanda and I rest our feet on it while we're watching movies and then sit on the floor in front of it when we eat. We've become total pros at movie marathon days. A few minutes later, she joins me in the living room and sets a bunch of takeout menus on the ottoman for us to choose from. 

"So, you think Trevor will try to stop by today?" She asks casually.

I pick up a menu and browse through it. "I honestly have no idea. I haven't heard from him in a while."

"It'd be nice to be able to relax and not have to get up at some point every day and tell him to piss off," she grumbles.

"Sorry," I say.

"Oh no, I don't blame you for it! He should get the hint by now."

"I agree, but he's always been persistent. You know that." I tell her. "I think I'm feeling Chinese today. I'd kill for some chicken egg rolls."

"Sounds good to me! I'll go call it in and then we can start a movie," she takes the menu and walks back into the kitchen with the rest of the menus.

 

I laugh at a line in the movie and go to grab my sixth egg roll. Amanda laughs and tries not to choke on the noodles she's shoveling into her mouth. All of a sudden, my stomach turns and I grimace. I really want to finish that egg roll. They taste ten times better today for some reason. I place it down and sit back. Amanda can tell something's up.

"You ok?" She asks with a mouthful.

"Yeah. I don't think the Chinese is agreeing with me today," I say softly.

"You look pale. I hope you didn't get food poisoning. Do you want me to get you the trashcan?" She asks.

"No, I'll be ok. I just need to take a break. I think I ate too much so that's probably part of the problem too." I get up off the floor and sit back on the couch. It only makes me feel more comfortable, not less sick. I lay down on the couch and the movement is too much for my stomach. I quickly sit back upright before I spew all over the living room.

"You really don't look good, (your name). Are you sure you're alright?" She asks with concern.

"I'm fine. I think I'm going to go to the bathroom though," I say as I slowly stand up and start walking to the bathroom. Even walking is too much motion and I have to run to the bathroom. My hand clasps over my mouth until I am over the toilet, fall to my knees, and then I throw up all of my dinner. 

Amanda comes running in and pulls my hair up and out of my face. "Oh my god! I knew you weren't ok. You need to rest. Don't eat anymore Chinese tonight."

I back away from the toilet and sit against the wall. My entire body is in a cold sweat. I just want to go back into the living room and lay down, but I don't think I can make it. I feel another round coming, so I hunch back over the toilet. Amanda grabs my hair again. Somehow, more comes up and my stomach completely empties itself. This time, I fall against the wall and look up at Amanda, clearly exhausted and very sweaty.

"You want to try to make it upstairs to the bed?" She suggests.

"I don't think I'm gonna make it. I don't feel any better even after throwing up." I tell her. 

We hear the front doors swing open furiously and hit the wall behind them. Amanda walks into the hallway and comes back in, "It's just Michael."

"Where's (your name)?" He asks plainly and I can hear him approaching quickly.

"She's right here. She's been throwing up," Amanda informs him. 

Michael appears quickly in the doorway with a serious expression on his face. He kneels in front of me and his face softens. "(Your name)?" He starts, but then looks over his shoulder. "Can you give us a moment Amanda?"

"Uh, no! She's been sick as a dog. She needs to get upstairs and lay down, you ass!" She snaps at him, obviously annoyed.

"I don't want to make a big deal out of this. Please, Amanda," Michael urges. I can see him clench his jaw, also getting annoyed.

"Can you two please not fight right now? I'm not in the position to leave the room. What is it, Michael?" I say, rubbing my head and wiping sweat off on my shirt sleeve.

Michael takes my cold, clammy hand in his and exhales. "Trevor's been in an accident."

I use Michael as leverage and hunch back over the toilet, throwing up yet again. I fall against the wall again after I'm done and accidentally hit my head pretty hard against the wall. The reality of Michael's words start to set in and a mixture of confusion from hitting my head corrupts the current moment. "What do you mean? Why didn't anyone call me?" I say tiredly, but also with an air of panic.

"Apparently someone did, but you didn't pick up. So the hospital called me. I rushed home as soon as I could. You needed to know in person," Michael tells me.

I wanted to break down into tears for the millionth time this week, but my adrenaline is through the roof. I reach out a hand, "Help me up and take me to the hospital."

Michael looks at his wife and she looks at me, then she looks back at Michael. "I'm not going to say she can't go see him. She needs to see him. Help her up and I'll get her a trash can to take in the car." Amanda walks off swiftly while Michael wraps my arm around his neck and helps me to my feet. I lean against the sink for easy access to the toilet while we wait for Amanda. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look, well, dead. A disturbing thought enters my head.

"What condition is he in?" I ask Michael.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you and say they don't know," he gave me a saddened look. I can tell he feels bad about everything I've been through recently. It never seems to stop for me and Trevor.

"What happened?" I ask plainly, wanting to hear every detail for myself. I take a deep breath in, for preparation.

Michael sighs, "They're not really sure about that either, but the truck flipped." My stomach sinks. "Luckily, he was on a fairly busy road and someone called it in."

I can feel myself choke up. "So, he could be dead?"

Michael stares at me, "I told you I wasn't going to sugar coat it."

Amanda returns and hands me a small trash can with a bag lining it. "Here you go. Be careful with her, Michael. She's really not feeling good."

"I know. I'll do the best I can. You gonna stay here with Trace and Jim?" He asks her.

"Yeah, I don't want them to know until afterwards," she says quietly and crosses her arms. 

"Jimmy knows something's up. I drove home rather quickly. You might have to make something up," He tells Amanda as he wraps an arm around my waist while we walk to help steady me. 

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Amanda says. "Call me when you get to the hospital."

"I will," Michael assures her.

The hot, stagnant night air clings to the sweat on my forehead and makes me feel nauseous again. I make it to Michael's Sedan and he slowly lowers me into the passenger side. I rest the trashcan on my lap. Michael gets in the car and quickly starts it up. He's trying to be strong for me, but I can tell he's panicking on the inside too. We might both lose our best friend tonight and neither one of us wants to even discuss the possibility of that happening. 

He jolts the car out of the driveway and down the street. I grab the handle above the door and can feel vomit sitting in my chest. "I'm sorry. I'll slow down," Michael says.

"Please don't," my voice catches in my throat. "I want to get there as quickly as we can. I'll deal with it."

"Ok," he says skeptically in a sing-song way. He speeds up a significant amount and I throw up again in the small trashcan.


	83. Flashback #31

"The food is great. Thanks for inviting us over, you guys," I say to Ron and his wife as I finish my plate.

"No, thank you! We haven't really done anything like this in a long time. There are a lot of weirdos around Sandy Shores," Ron says just above a whisper. "You know, possible lizard people." My eyebrows knit together at his odd remark and his wife sees this.

She playfully hits Ron on the shoulder, "Now, Ron, don't bother them with your conspiracy theories."

"Ah, ok. Now I gotcha. For a second there, I wasn't quite sure what you were talking about!" I laugh and so does everyone but Trevor. 

He menacingly chews his barbecue chicken and eyes Ron like a hawk swooping in to get its prey. "Say, Ronald, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm an accountant," his smile fades and he swallows hard.

"Is the accounting business fulfilling?" Trevor asks dryly.

"It gets the bills paid," Rons sighs.

Marie, Ron's wife, is growing visibly bored of the conversation and takes everyone's plates inside to the kitchen. I'd help her, but I need to stay here and watch Trevor. I know he's up to nothing good. Trevor waits until Marie is completely inside and the back door shuts again, then refocuses on Ron. 

"Are you happy, Ron?" 

"I guess so. I have everything I could ask for: a wife that loves me, a roof over our heads, food on our table, and the job that pays the bills."

"The answer is no," Trevor says plainly. "You're slowly wasting away, and you're letting her do it to you." Trevor nods towards their house.

"Trevor," I say quietly, but sternly. Ron looks at me with worry and then back at Trevor.

"She won't even let you talk about your interest, like conspiracy theories! She's not much of a wife if she doesn't let you express yourself."

Ron laughs nervously, "That's just what wives do. She was trying to keep the conversation interesting."

Trevor shakes his head, "That's where you're wrong, amigo. I can tell she just walks all over you, but I can offer you a way out."

Ron thinks long and hard. "She can be a real bitch sometimes. Excuse my French."

"Trevor, I swear to god," I groan as I rub my head. 

"What's the offer?" Ron asks innocently.

"I run a little operation that I know is more successful than accounting, but she's going to have to go. Don't let her steal everything out from under you. What woman needs jewelry like that and her nails perfectly done out here in Sandy Shores. She's a gold digger, man."

"Trevor Philips!" I yell.

Marie comes back outside. "Everything ok out here?" Her expression changes from happy to concerned quickly when she sees how distressed I am.

"We'll be on our way. Thank you for dinner," Trevor says as he stands and walks back to our trailer next door.

"Marie, we need to talk," Ron says.

"Please," I grab Ron's arm before he can turn to her, "really think about this."

He doesn't reply, but he gives me a saddened look. Marie looks at both of us in confusion. I turn to run after Trevor, who is already approaching the front steps. I hear the back door shut to Ron's trailer and I get a sinking feeling. I follow my idiot boyfriend into the trailer and slam the door shut behind me. It doesn't phase him as he walks into the bedroom. I storm in there and he rips his shirt off and throws it on the bed.

I loom in the doorway. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Taking a shower. I smell like roasted pig ass," he says nonchalantly.

"No, no, no! Why did you say that to him?! He's a nice guy and he is actually happy with the way his life is," I tell him.

"You can't see how miserable he is," he says as he unbuttons his jeans and slides them off. "He's a little on the weird side, like us. He _belongs_ with us. She's too uptight and pristine for him, and it's making the poor guy nuts. I can tell he just wants to run around this desert talking about the lizard people and how drones are destroying America, but she won't let him. She's got him on a leash. He should be able to do what he wants, and I need a man like him helping me with business."

I grab his dirty clothes off the bed and place them in the hamper. I take a seat on the bed where his clothes were. "I will leave you alone if it happens and he's happier, but I'm going to rag you about it if it happens and he's miserable. Or if nothing happens and they start avoiding us."

He smirks deviously. "Fair enough, cupcake. Now come on and join me," he reaches for my hands to guide me to the bathroom.

I blush, "What makes you think I want to after you possibly ruined someone else's relationship?"

"Because, you can deny it all you want, but it secretly turns you on when I spread chaos," he says seductively. "And I love you."

"Just for the record," I give him a look with a smirk, "you have behaved horribly and don't deserve it."

"But?" He grins.

"But, I love you too. And I also smell like roasted pig ass." We both laugh.

-A few days later-

I place my dirty dishes from lunch in the sink, and I notice a shadow move across the blinds on the window in front of the sink. A soft knock comes on the door. Trevor isn't home and he's not supposed to be for another hour, at least. Johnny isn't so delicate about his knocking and usually he text me before he comes over. I move the blinds to the side and look out at the porch. It's Ron! And he has a suitcase at his feet...

I rush to open the door. "Hi, Ron. I'm really sorry about everything Trevor said at dinner."

He holds a hand up. "Don't be. I'm glad he said those things. Is he here?"

"No, he's not, but would you like to come in?" I move aside.

He grabs his suitcase and walks inside, "Thank you."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" I ask. I'm trying to be as nice and gentle with him as I can. I feel horrible about Trevor's behavior.

"I was going to tell him that I'd like to take him up on his offer. Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Soon, but I can call him."

"That'd be great," Ron forces a smile and then immediately looks sad.

I take my phone and go out in the front yard, or at least that's what we called it. I stand there, thinking about what exactly to do. Whatever is going on with Ron, I know it isn't good. I call Trevor and it rings a few times before he answers. "Ron's at our trailer. He wants to work for you."

"Ah-ha! Yes! I knew it! Ok, I'll be home shortly." So much for that call. 

I go back inside. "He just said he'll be home shortly." He just nods and I try to busy myself in the kitchen to avoid dealing with the awkwardness. It's just not going to happen though. I turn to him, "Look, Trevor and I are sort of in business together. I know it's none of my business, but what exactly happened?"

"Well," he sighs, "after you two left, I told her that maybe we should get a divorce. She asked why and I told her that I feel like I'm just acting a certain way to please her. She goes off on a tangent about how thankless of a job it is to be my wife. She starts saying how she left everything to move here with me so I could be more comfortable and she's been dying to move back to her hometown."

"I'm really sorry, Ron," I sit beside him on the couch.

"Don't be," he forces another smile and looks at me. "People always feel like they should be sorry when someone gets a divorce, but this was probably supposed to happen. I rather be divorced than living under her expectations the rest of my life. I just never realized that before."

Trevor barges through the door, making both of us jump. "Ronny! I hear you want to join T.P. Enterprises!"

"I thought you were calling it Trevor Philips Industries?" I add.

He shrugs, "I'm working out the name. So, Ron, you got that old witch off your back?"

"Working on it. She kicked me out and is going to serve me papers," he says reluctantly. 

"Perfect! Come with me. I have to show you to the office, and you can stay there while everything is getting sorted out. I wouldn't want you and ol' whats-her-face getting into it while she still lives next door." Trevor practically drags Ron out to the truck and I watch from the porch as they disappear again. 

I see movement from my right and look over. Marie is moving suitcases and furniture out of the back door and into the car. She spots me and stops in her tracks, just staring for a few seconds. She flicks me off and I laugh, coming down off the porch. I leisurely walk over and hop the fence with ease. She tries to run inside, but I grab her and slam her into the side of the trailer.

"Boy, I never thought I'd agree with them, but Trevor and Ron were right about you. You're kind of a two-faced bitch." I say quietly, which makes her even more nervous. "I suggest you pack everything up tonight and leave for good. Ron already seems happier." I give a sly smile and release her. She looks absolutely scared out of her mind. "And if I see any other finger raised at me, Ron, or Trevor the wrong way again, I'll cut it off."

I turn and walk back to the trailer, hopping back over the fence. I hated that Trevor was right, but sometimes he could read into things so deeply and accurately it was scary. I go inside the trailer and just kick my feet up on the couch, waiting for Trevor to return. Life in Sandy Shores feels like it's about to get a whole lot more interesting.


	84. Apart III

Between my nausea, which luckily subsided some on the drive over to the hospital, and Michael's speedy driving, my vision has become blurred. I rub my eyes, trying to focus. My mind can't even focus on anything. Michael quickly comes around to the passenger side and helps me out. He has an arm around me to keep me up and walking, but I'm pulling towards the door like a dog on a leash. He tries to keep up with me and we storm into the hospital. When we get to the front desk, I lunge and shift all my weight onto the reception desk. The nurse behind the desk looks at me in horror.

"What can I help you with?" The nurse asks.

"I need to know where Trevor Philips is," I say, trying to focus on not getting sick.

"Who are you?" She asks in a rude manner, like I had no business visiting anyone here.

"I'm his fucking wife!" I slam my fist down on the desk. 

Michael puts a hand on my shoulder. "I can vouch for her. She's his wife and I'm a friend."

"Do either of you have an ID?" She chews her gum mockingly and just the sound of it smacking makes me want to reach over the desk and choke her out. Michael digs around in the pockets of his suit jacket and then his khakis. He turns his wallet to face the bitch behind the desk, and she glances at his driver's license. "Oh, Mr. De Santa! You're on his emergency contact list."

"You know she is too," Michael says matter-of-factly. 

The nurse shrugs like it's not her problem how rude she was to me. "He's down the hall that way. When you come to the end of the hall, make a left." She points down the wing to her right.

Michael gives the woman a nasty passing glance as we head towards the hallway to the right. I now don't like hospitals for a completely new reason. We're about to pass a bathroom when Michael stops me. He tells me to hold on a second and ducks into the men's room. He comes out a few seconds later and hands me paper towels. "You might want to clean yourself up. You look like you just wandered out of a meth den."

"Oh, thank you, Michael," I say sarcastically. I take the paper towels and dab at my forehead. Next, I try to remove as much moisture as I can from my hair and tie it up in a ponytail with the spare elastic I have on my wrist. I suddenly wish Amanda had come. She's always prepared. She probably would have a compact mirror and some basic makeup necessities in her bag. Toweling off my face and hair will have to do for now though. I toss the nearly drenched paper towels into he garbage can and we continue down the hall. I spot Johnny sitting outside a door, his knee bouncing up and down with anxiety. 

"Johnny!" I yell down the hall. He looks over at me quickly and relaxes some. He gets up and I run to hug him. "Is he ok? Where is her?" I cling to his arms.

"They're figuring it out. I don't have much to tell you. They're not telling me much," he informs me. I glance at the window on the door, but the room looks empty. 

"Where is he? Have you seen him?"

"I think they took him in for testing, but I don't really know. I did see him when they were wheeling him in," Johnny's face grows saddened.

"And?" I ask frantically.

"He was unconscious and covered in blood." Johnny says to me.

I sink into the chair beside the one Johnny was sitting in. I don't feel nauseous anymore, but something else entirely. "Wait, why are they taking him in for testing?"

"They're probably testing him for drugs and alcohol," Michael says, trying to calm me down. 

"Can they do that without an order?" I question. 

"Will you relax?" Michael says. "All that matters right now is if he's alive."

I sit back in the chair and try to focus my mind elsewhere, but it's proving to be impossible. "By the way, Johnny this is Michael and Michael this is Johnny." The two shake hands.

"I've heard a lot about you," Michael says.

"I've heard a lot about you too," Johnny says and sits back down next me. Michael takes the last empty seat next to me.

We all sit in silence, trying to keep the worst case scenario out of our minds. If we think or talk about that too much, all three of us feel as though we'll jinx it. My best friend, my partner, my soulmate. He might possibly be laying dead somewhere and I'm none-the-wiser. Every time I blink, I see his pale, lifeless body. His glassy eyes looking up at me and the faint whisperings of a doctor trying to tell me that I've lost him. Tears start welling up in my eyes as the adrenaline wears off. There's nothing left for me to do, but wait.

"(Your name)?" Johnny whispers. I look over at him. "I know that now probably isn't a good time for apologies, but I wanted to tell you that I'm really sorry for what happened."

"What do you mean?" 

"I should've had better self control. I didn't know you and Trevor got married. Even if you weren't married to him, it still would've been wrong. I just feel worse about it knowing that now." He says quietly and genuinely.

"Johnny," I sigh, " it's fine. It was my fault and I'm the one that should've had better self control. I was just extremely happy to see you and that's how I decided to display it in a split-second decision. I felt horrible because of how understanding Trevor was about it, so know that he doesn't blame either one of us."

"I know. I went to tell him and he explained everything that happened between you two. He wasn't the same when you left. I don't want to make you feel bad, but he was really torn up about it. He just seemed, well, broken." Johnny whispered. I look at him curiously, and he knows I want an explanation. "The night you left, he came to ask what I wanted for dinner. That's when I tried to admit what happened, and he told me he knew. He sat on the edge of the bed with his back to me. Neither of us said anything for a bit, and then he explained that you two had a fight about keeping me a secret and that you'd left for an indefinite amount of time. Every time he spoke since then, it was quiet and he acted as if he just wanted the conversation to be done so he could go back to being alone."

Michael interjects himself into the conversation, without Johnny and I even knowing he was actively listening to us. "He sounded that way on the phone too. He called me a couple times to ask about her and he just sounded like he wanted to know she was ok and that was it. I could tell that he didn't really want to talk to me, he wanted her. The longing in his voice was painful for me to listen to. It made _me_ depressed about the situation."

"He honestly stopped leaving the house after the second day you were gone. I think he tried to occupy himself the first two days, but it just didn't work. So, he gave up. He just kind of wandered around the house after that. I'd find him sitting in a dark room by himself. It was kinda freaky, to be perfectly honest. One day, I know he left the house again. I asked him where he was going and he said he just needed to see you, even if it was from afar."

I smile and whisper, "He's so creepy."

Michael tries to contain his laughter, "Yep, you can say that again."

"He tried hopping the fence at their house and put a dent in it, and get this: the gate was unlocked," I tell Johnny.

"Yeah," Johnny smirked, "he mentioned that when he came back to the house." We all sit in silence, but Johnny breaks it eventually. "Whatever happens, just know that this man lives his life for you. I truly believe that."

A tear falls down my cheek and I look down at my hands in my lap, "I wasn't there with him in the end. What kind of wife am I? I selfishly left because of my anger, and that was possibly our last interaction. I'm never going to be able to forgive myself."

"I think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves, but if I remember correctly the last thing you said to him was 'I love you'." Michael reminds me.

I spot an older doctor exit out of two large white doors. He's carrying a clipboard and he looks dejected. I silently pray that he doesn't come over to us, but with each step the knot in my throat and stomach gets tighter. He stops in front of us and we all stand. "Mr. Klebitz, and guests," the doctor nods to us.

"This is his wife, (your name), and his friend, Michael," Johnny tells the doctor.

"I have some news about, Mr. Philips," he gives us all a glance. Michael must've seen me grow more pale and places his hand on my back in case I pass out. "At this time, we still have no known cause for the accident. His system is clean. However, when we were removing his clothing for examination we became aware of a metal rod protruding from his right side. It's doesn't extend out of his body much and it was probably some debris on the road." I start hyperventilating and Michael and Johnny turn to me and lower me into the chair. "He's alright for the time being, Mrs. Philips, but we'll have to wheel him into surgery fairly soon. We do have a limited window of opportunity. He's being prepped right now."

"Thank you," Johnny says.

Tears are streaming down my face now. "Wait!" I scream after the doctor. He turns back around. "Can I please see him? I just need to see a glimpse of him."

"I'm sorry, but it's not permitted. We have to keep the area sanitary, and besides you don't want to watch us pull a metal rod out of your husband. It's gruesome work," the doctor says condescendingly. 

I grab Michael's and Johnny's arm, pulling myself up to stand. I slowly walk over to the doctor, not breaking eye contact. "Let _me_ tell _you_ about gruesome business. I have seen two of my best friends shot, to which one of them died. I have smelled seared flesh. I have been shot _twice_ and was awake when the bullets were pulled out of me. I've killed more people than I can count in a variety of different ways. And _you_ think _you've_ seen gruesome work. I've seen more of it in my lifetime than you've seen in your career." I say in just above a whisper right in front of the doctor's face.

The doctor looks at Michael and Johnny for any help, but they don't do anything. "Is there _anything_ you can do?" Johnny asks.

"She's been through a hell of a lot and she hasn't seen him for a week, which is like ten years for them," Michael adds.

The doctor exhales audibly, "We do have a room where residents usually watch the surgeries for educational purposes. I'll see if I can get you into that room."

"Thank you," I smile with tear trails staining my face.

The doctor leaves and I take a seat again. Johnny and Michael sit down too, look at each other, and laugh. I look at them, knowing their laughter is directed at me. I didn't mean to be so threatening, but I just found out Trevor is still alive. I can't take anymore guessing and wondering. If he's going into a risky surgery, I want to be there. I want to know every little thing that happens. If I'm going to lose him, I want to be as there as I can be. 

The doctor comes back and tells me I'm allowed to go into the room he described. Michael and Johnny elect not to come with me. They probably didn't want to watch and they were being respectful of me and Trevor. The doctor unlocked the room for me. It was all white, even the seats, which makes me extremely uncomfortable. The harsh fluorescent lighting didn't help either. Thankfully, I have the room to myself. 

I slowly approach the window and look down into the operating room. Trevor is laying on the operating table. There's a tube in his throat and his skin is pale, just like what I imagined earlier. More tears escape me. His arms lay at his sides with his palms facing upward. I wanted so badly to go up to him and place my hand in his. Bruises and dry blood speckled his limp body. They cut a hole in the hospital gown around his side. Blood trickled down the side of his hip and from where I'm standing, I can make out a black spot that must be the metal bar. 

I put both hands on the window and the doctor enters the operating room. He looks up at me and I can tell just from his eyes he feels nothing but pity. I feel sorry for putting the pressure of a wife watching her husband's operation on him. I look back at Trevor as they start trying to remove the bar. "I know you're passed out on anesthesia right now, but I know you know what I'm saying somehow. I'm so sorry for this past week. I acted like a fucking idiot and I guess I needed time and space to realize that. I always knew we were meant to be together, but it's solidified in me now that whenever we aren't, bad things happen. You were right when you said we were always destined for trouble," I laugh quietly as a few more tears roll down my cheek. My expression grows serious again, "but we've come too far and been through too much for you to go out like this. I'm not afraid to admit that I can't do this without you. It's not an admission of weakness or of codependency. You just _are_ my world and if I lose you, that world no longer exists. I reject a world where you don't exist. So please, Trevor, hang on for me. Don't leave me alone, you asshole. I love you more than words will ever allow me to say."

I back away from the glass and take a seat in the front row. There's a speaker on the ceiling that allows you to hear everything going on in the operating room. "No organs have been pierced," the doctor says. "A couple stitches and he'll be good to go." The nurses in the room nod and set up the equipment table for stitching. 

"Thank you, Trevor," I whisper.

-

When the doctor finishes the stitches, they wheel Trevor out of the operating room. I wait outside the room until I see the doctor. He looks extremely nervous as I approach him. "I just wanted to say thank you. You took care of him and I'm sorry I went a little crazy. It feels like life is putting us in a test against each other to see who can scare the shit out of the other one more."

"It's alright. I would like to apologize as well. As a doctor, you try to distance yourself emotionally and sometimes we're a little too heartless. Surgery went very well, and I expect him to make a near full recovery. He might have muscle stiffness in that area from now on, but that's about it. They're taking him back to the room now." The doctor smiles and goes to walk away.

"Hey," I stop him, "is there any chance I can keep the rod you extracted? I've turned it into a collection, all the stuff we've had taken out of our bodies."

The doctor laughs, "No problem. I'll have a nurse bring it to you in a few minutes after it's cleaned thoroughly."

I walk back to where I parted with Michael and Johnny. They were no longer outside, but the door to the room was open and I could see them inside. Trevor was already back in the room. He looked even more awful up close. He looked pale in the lighting in the operating room, but he just looks blue and purple now. Scratches cover his body, probably from hitting the road. I take a few paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and wet them in the sink. I do my best to get the dry blood off him. When I'm finished, I sit on the bed next to him and just look at him. Johnny stands beside me and Michael puts a hand on my shoulder.

"They said he's going to be fine and that surgery went well," I tell them. They sit with me quietly for a few minutes.

"I forgot to call Amanda. I should tell her that everything is ok," Michael says and leaves the room.

"I'm sorry about Ashley, Johnny K, I can't imagine how that must feel, but I think I just got close to it." I say to him.

"Yeah, I miss her every day that's gone by since, but she was never happy here. I think she's in a better place. No, I know she is," Johnny says with a smile. "So, you think you'll be back at the house soon?"

"Are you kidding? Hell yes! I'm going to have to watch over him to make sure he doesn't actually kill himself! I swear, he's a child!" I say jokingly.

"Who's a child?" A groggy whisper comes from behind me. 

I look over and Trevor is looking up at me. "Oh my god!" I exclaim. I wrap my arms around him as best as I can and he makes pained noises. I plant a dozen kisses on his cheek.

"Look, crazy cakes, I always love your affection, but it hurts like a bitch right now," he groans.

I'm already crying again, "I'm sorry. I just, you had a close call there. Do you remember anything?"

"Barely," he grumbles. 

Johnny happily watches us, "I'm going to step outside to give you both some time to catch up."

I wait for him to leave and turn back to Trevor. "I have to ask, but was this on purpose?"

He looks at me like I have ten heads. "I might be crazy, but I'm not that crazy. I would never intentionally almost kill myself."

"Then what happened? I just don't understand."

"You know trucks have a weird center of gravity. I was just cruising along and hit something. It was nighttime. I couldn't see it, but I felt it. Next thing I know I'm on the street and there are paramedics all around me. I remember thinking, 'oh man, (your name) is going to kill me' and that's it." He winces, "My side hurts like a motherfucker."

"Well, I just watched them remove a metal rod from it so," I trail off.

"What?!" He looks worried. The nurse, with impeccable timing, comes in and hands me a box in a bag. I take the box out of the bag and hold it up for him to see. "That was inside me?!"

"Yep, and I can attest to that," I say. He just looks at me. "What?" I ask him. He continues to stare and a smile creeps on his face. He puts a hand on my cheek.

"You're absolutely beautiful," he says softly.

I scoff, "Well thank you, considering I've been throwing up and sweating my ass off. I'm also in my comfy clothes."

"You've been sick? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I roll my eyes, "but let me take care of you first. You're worse off than I am."

"Well, you could've fooled me. You are _gorgeous_!" He says excitedly.

"Shhh, Trevor," I laugh. "You need to take it easy, something I'll make sure of."

"You've decided to come back?"

"Yeah, I've been wanting to and you just can't stay out of trouble," I tease him.

"Good, I really missed you."

"I know," I kiss him. "I've missed you too."


	85. Surprise

The room is lightly lit. I roll over and see that it's around six in the morning. I sit up and look beside me to check on Trevor. He's not there. Panic starts to set in, but before I can do anything about it I can already feel my stomach turning. I throw the covers back, jump out of bed, and run into the bathroom. Something isn't right. I wouldn't have had food poisoning this long. Maybe my stomach is just weaker now when I get too worked up. I sit back from the toilet and wish Amanda was here to hold my hair out of the way again as I grab toilet paper and try to wipe vomit out of my hair. 

Luckily, I feel better more quickly. I step into the shower and clean myself off. I get dressed for the day and head downstairs. Johnny is sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast, and Trevor is on the couch, watching tv. I smile to myself. This is never how I saw my life panning out, but I'm happy. Johnny notices me and smiles.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he teases.

"Morning," I smile back.

Trev turns around painfully to see me. He winces. "Hey, come here," he pats the couch beside him.

I walk over to the couch and sit beside him. "You're up early. Usually it's just Johnny and I waiting for you to get up."

"There's a suture in my side that can really bug me sometimes. I couldn't go back to sleep this morning." He tells me.

"Maybe we can call Chef and have him give us some instruction on how to make it more comfortable for you. Ok?" I smile. He smiles warmly at me, not shifting his gaze in the slightest. "What?" I question.

"You just," he pauses, "look really happy."

"I am happy," I kiss him on the cheek. "You look happy too."

"I am!" He exclaims.

I can't help but laugh. "You just take it easy. Are you hungry? I can make you something."

"Yeah, actually. I'd kill for French toast," he says enthusiastically.

"Coming right up," I get up and walk to the kitchen. "You want anything while I'm at it, Johnny?"

"I'll take some more scrambled eggs since you're getting them out anyway. I'm hungrier than I thought."

I open the fridge and get the eggs out. I crack three of them into a bowl and whisk them with a fork. I turn the stove on and get a piece of bread. I cut the bread into four strips and lightly dip them into the egg, and throw them into the pan. They cook up pretty quick, and I take the plate to Trevor. The rest of the egg gets dumped into the pan and I keep scraping the edges of the pan. I begin to feel a little light-headed.

"Hey, uh, Johnny?" I turn my face away from the oven and hold the back of my hand up to cover my nose and mouth.

"Yeah?" He looks over at me. "Oh shit, are you ok? You look as pale as a ghost."

Trevor sits up and tries to turn around again. He's got a mouthful of French toast. "You ok, crazy cakes?"

"I'm alright, guys," I say quietly. "Johnny, can you finish the eggs? I can't do it."

"Yeah, of course." He hurries over. "Is everything ok though? What just happened?"

"I don't know. I just got a whiff of the cooked egg and I just started to feel light-headed," I tell Johnny.

""Just go have a seat and rest. Do you want me to make you something?" He asks.

"No, my appetite is completely gone right now," I slowly walk over to the dinner table to sit down for a moment.

I feel my stomach tighten and my throat starts to burn. I run down the hall to the half bathroom and throw up again. I'm absolutely exhausted. I haven't even had anything to eat yet! There's nothing to throw up! I hear Johnny and Trevor talking and then footsteps coming up behind me. When I go to get some water from the sink to rinse my mouth out, I see Trevor in the mirror behind me. I sit back on the floor next to the toilet. He grabs his side and sits on the floor next to me.

"Do you think you have the flu or something?" He asks. He takes my hand in his. "God, you're clammy."

"No. I feel fine after a while," I reply. I sit there, trying not to move and focus on not throwing up again.

"Well, you look great, so you chose the right place to vomit," he giggles. I give him an odd look. "The lighting must be really good."

"What do you mean?" I ask, tiredly.

"You don't look like you've been throwing up. You look very healthy, almost golden," he moves the wild strands of hair behind my ear. I look at him in horror. My eyes widen. He looks scared at my sudden change of expression. "What?!" He says with worry in his voice.

"Oh, uh, nothing," I look away and try to play it off. "I just remembered something."

"Don't do that to me! You just about gave me a heart attack with that look," he says as he clutches his chest and takes a sigh of relief. "What was it that you remembered so suddenly?"

"I was planning on making those biscuits everyone loves and I forgot to get more flour the last time I was at the store."

"Seriously?" He says with sarcasm.

"Yeah, uh, where are the keys? I want to get it now while I'm still thinking of it. I wanted to have Wade and Floyd over for a few nights and I thought I'd make them."

"They're where they usually are. Are you sure you're ok to drive? You just puked your guts out." His eyebrows crease at me.

"I feel ok now. I promise. I'll pick up some ginger ale or something at the store, just in case." I stand up and he follows me out of the bathroom. Johnny is chowing down on his second plate of eggs and watching the tv from the dinner table. Trevor plops back down on the couch. I kiss him goodbye. "I'll be back soon. Text me if you guys need anything."

I hurry out of the house. I don't know why, but my sudden realization makes me extremely uncomfortable and I can't hide it. I climb into the truck and rest my forehead on the steering wheel for a moment. I can just feel it: today is going to be different. My cellphone buzzes in my pocket and snaps me out of my thoughts. It's a text from Michael: _Thought you'd enjoy this._ Below, Michael has taken a picture of two photographs.

In the first one, it's snowing heavily and Michael, Brad, Trevor, and I are on a frozen lake. It was in North Yankton, around when we had first moved there all together. Lester had taken the picture. I remember that day very well. Trevor and Brad had gotten extremely bored, and I told them that when I was in high school my friends and I would go to this lake that froze over very easily and we'd just walk around and try no to lose our balance. Being young guys, they thought it was the best idea ever. The actual picture shows Michael, mid-fall, on the ice. Brad is pointing at Michael, laughing hysterically, and slightly losing his balance with a beer in hand. Trevor is laughing with his head pointed up into the snow, a hand on his stomach, and a beer in his other hand. I'm doubled over in laughter, one hand grasping at Trevor's jacket sleeve to keep my balance, and the other outstretched to grab Michael to keep him from sliding. I smile at the memory.

I scroll down and look at the other picture. I've never seen this one before and only now am I aware of its existence. It's really beautiful and kind of artistic. It's nighttime and there's a bonfire. Trevor and I are sitting in between the picture-taker and the bonfire, smiling at each other. You can see it in our eyes how we feel about each other. I start to tear up. Goddamn it! I'd ask myself why I'm getting so emotional all the time, but deep inside I know. I text Michael back: _Who took that last picture?! I love it!!!_ A few minutes later, he texts back: _I did!_ I can't help but smile. _I think I know what you should've done for a living if you weren't a criminal,_ I joke.

I toss my phone into the cup holder and start up the truck. I make my way to the store with a lump in my throat. I've never been so scared to go to the store. I walk in like I'm there to assassinate someone and make a beeline for the feminine hygiene aisle. I pass the pads, tampons, and condoms. At the end of the aisle, I turn and look at all the boxes that are some variation of the color pink. I've never had to do this and I have no idea what I'm supposed to look for, but I don't want to tell Amanda. She couldn't keep it to herself. I grab the most quantity and cost efficient one.

As an alibi, I go to the baking aisle and grab the biggest bag of flour. We were getting low, so I didn't completely lie to Trevor. I also grab a case of ginger ale because if my instincts are correct, I'll need it. I go to the check out and when it's my turn, the cashier takes a look at my items and gives me an odd look. I hate that they sometimes think they're like FBI agents that piece together our lives based on what we're buying.

"These are wild cards," the cashier laughs.

I just laugh along with her. I'm too nervous and in my own head to say anything to anyone, even my own husband. She bags my items too and I quickly hand her some cash. She insists on taking her time giving me my change, and then I practically dart out of the store. I throw the bags in the seat beside me and get back into the truck. I dig out one of the ginger ales and chug it as best as I can. Hopefully, I'll have to go to the bathroom when I get home. 

I put the key in the ignition and think about what to do next. I don't want to go home. I take my phone out of the cupholder and send a quick text: _Hey. I'm coming over in a few minutes. I'd like to talk, if you're up for it._

_I'd like that. See you soon!_

-

"Hey, Mrs.Philips. Nice to see you again," the bouncer says as I approach the door.

"Hey, I have kind of missed this place," we both laugh. I push the door aside and my eyes have to adjust to the darkness. Music is being blasted from all angles. I wave to Wade as I pass the first private room. He likes to hide from everyone in there. Juliette, one of the strippers, runs up to me.

"Hi! Long time no see!" She giggle stupidly. "Have you seen Franklin? He hasn't called me back."

"I'm sorry. I haven't," I tell her even though I saw him two days ago. He showed up at the hospital when he heard Trevor was in the accident. "You're too young to wait around for him. Go out with some other guys." I try to encourage her. The truth is, Franklin has been seeing Infernus lately. She's the most popular dancer and it was only a matter of time. Juliette seems satisfied with my answer and walks away with a smile. 

I walk past the curtain that leads to the VIP rooms, and into the dressing room area. At the end of the hallway, I open the door to the manager's office and close it behind me. Floyd looks up from the computer and smiles. He gets up and greets me with a hug. "I was really happy to get yer text," he says in his familiar southern drawl.

"That makes _me_ happy. How's business?" I ask him.

"Booming! You and Trevor are gonna be set fer the rest of yer lives," he sighs, "but anyway, to what do I owe yer visit?"

"I told Trevor that I wanted to have you and Wade maybe spend a few nights over, if you can get away. I know business gets crazy around here and I'm sorry we haven't really gotten you any help." I tell him.

"Oh, it's alright. It keeps me busy and my job is mainly just data entry," he says as we both sit on the couch against the wall, facing the desk.

"I also wasn't quite ready to go home after I went to the store," I say quickly.

"Why not?" He asks with genuine concern.

"Honestly, my life has changed so much in a short amount of time. That's how it always feels. Everything insane happens all at once and I just wanted it to slow down for a second. I also just missed you and wanted to talk to someone with a different outlook on life."

"To me, it sounds like yer procrastinatin' from change," he replies wittily.

I place my hands over my face, "I didn't mention specifics, but you're so right." 

"Well, if I may ask, what's so bad about the change that yer procrastinatin' from?"

I breathe in deeply. "I'm worried that yet another thing I thought for a long time is untrue."

"What's so bad about that?" He asks.

"If it is true, it'll change, not only my life, but a lot of people's lives around me forever," I say.

"Is it a good change or bad change?"

"I don't really know, and I guess that's what I'm really scared of."

"It's only human to be scared, but I think any kind of change, good or bad, happens for a reason. You have a good group of people around ya, so no matter what it is, you should know that you have a lotta people in yer corner." He tells me.

"Why are you the best person to talk to? You don't ask for every little detail and you give the best advice," I say to him genuinely.

"I just realize all the details aren't necessarily my business and I try to give the advice I would want to receive," he smiles.

My phone interrupts the moment. It's Trevor. I knew he'd call and be concerned. "Hey, sweetie...yes, I'm ok...I stopped in to see Floyd and Wade. I know I should've told you, but it was a last minute decision...Yes, I got something for my stomach...I'm on my way now...Ok. I love you too...Bye." I put my phone back in my pocket. "Well, I do need to get back to him to check on him. I also need to face the change head-on. So, see you at the house sometime?"

"Yeah, I'll get with Wade and give ya a call," he tells me. 

I give him a thumbs up and exit out of the back entrance to the manager's office. As I get back into the truck, I can feel the need to use the bathroom increasing. Good. Hopefully my mind will focus on that while I drive back home. 

-

When I get into the driveway, I turn the truck off quickly. I take the box out of the bag and tuck it into my pants. My shirt is baggy enough to hide it for the time being. I take the flour and ginger ale into the kitchen. Johnny and Trevor are both on the couch, and they give me a brief greeting. I excuse myself and go upstairs into our bedroom, taking the box out of my pants.

I tear it open in frustration at how anxious a stupid piece of plastic is making me. As I walk into the bathroom, three tests fall out and onto the tile floor. I pick them up, leaving one out on the counter. I shove the other two back in the box and tuck it under some things in the back underneath the sink. I take the individually wrapped test from the sink and take the packaging off of it, burying it deep in the trashcan. Humbly, I uncap it and pull my pants down. I observe, slightly grossed out, but I have to make sure I'm doing it right.

When I'm finished, I cap the test and place it on the counter. I avoid looking at it while I wash my hands, and procrastinate further by staring in the mirror. I pick it back up, still not looking at it, and I go sit on the edge of the bed. I watch the clock until a full three minutes have passed, just like what the instructions said. I hold the test out in front of me and close my eyes. I take a deep breath in and exhale. My eyes open. Two pink lines stare back at me. As unsure as I am, I smile.


	86. The Doctor's

After Trevor's hospital endeavor, I have become extremely uncomfortable with hospitals and doctor's offices. However, I'm going to have to become a lot more well-acquainted with them. The overly sanitary smell of the waiting room makes butterflies form in my stomach. I look up from the form I'm filling out and across the way at a women whose son is running around in circles. She snaps at him and calls his name, demanding he sit still next to her. He can't be more than six years old. I get the chills as I imagine me as that woman. I don't want to be her.

A nurse with long red hair comes out and spouts out a name. The woman that was berating her son grabs his arm and guides him to the nurse. They disappear behind the door. I hope for that little boy and overthink about it until another nurse appears at the door. She has short blonde hair and smiles out at the waiting room, clearly enjoying her line of work. She tucks a pen behind her perfectly pinned hair. 

"(Your name) Philips," she says in a cheery tone.

I stand nervously and fumble with the clipboard. I hand it to her as I cross the threshold, which makes me feel like I'm a lamb being led to slaughter. The nurse sways her hips as she walks, which makes me even more uncomfortable. She makes eye contact with a male doctor as we pass an clearing in a room with a circular desk in the center. It all becomes clear to me why no hair is out of place on the nurse and why her lipstick is perfectly lined. Poor girl.

She takes me into a room and tells me to step on the scale. I kick my shoes off and stand awkwardly on the scale, facing the wall. Then, she has me stand against the wall to measure my height. I put my shoes back on and she happily pats the bed in the corner of the room. I step up on the platform that juts out from the bed and sit atop it. She types away on the computer, with a smile on her face. She asks me a few basic questions, types my answers into the computer, and then tells me that the doctor will be in shortly.

About five minutes later, the doctor that the nurse made eye contact enters. He gives me a smile and I notice the ring on his finger as he shuts the door behind him. He looks at the computer and types only god knows what. "So," he begins, "you're in today because you suspect that you're pregnant."

"Yep," I say coldly. 

"Have you taken any home tests?" He asks.

"Yes, I've taken three of them. I've taken one every week since I've suspected."

He types my answer into the computer. "Any other symptoms?"

"Yes, and that's what made me take the tests. I've had morning sickness and others have noticed that my skin has that 'glow' to it. My shoes and pants fit a little differently. That's all." I inform him.

Again, he types my answers into the computer. "What were the results of the tests?"

"All were positive," I reply stoically.

"It sounds like you know the answer, so can I ask what's really going on here? Are you not with the father or is it someone else's?" He gives me a look like 'cut the crap, lady'.

My eyebrows knit together as I give him an offended look. "No, I'm married, for your information, and it's definitely his! I've never fucked anyone else in my entire life!"

The doctor puts his hands up in defense, "Ok, I'm just trying to figure out why you'd take three home tests and come here for one if all the others are positive."

I exhale, "I've had a miscarriage before. I just want to make sure before I tell anyone, especially him. He just had an accident and I don't want to put him through that stress again." I tell the doctor honestly.

"Alright, that's fair. I'm going to order a blood test since you've already taken so many urine tests. That's all you had to say," he says sympathetically.

"Don't make assumptions about other people. You know what they say about assuming. You especially shouldn't project how you live your life on others. Your wife probably knows, you know. I could tell just by you two looking at each other," I smirk.

His face goes white. "Right, uh, just tell the receptionist you're having blood work done. She'll set everything up."

"Thank you," I force a smile and walk back out of the office.

When I get to the front again, I tell the receptionist about the lab work. She makes a note in the computer and tells me to have a seat. A couple minutes later, a different nurse comes to get me and leads me into an even smaller room in the back. She unfolds the arm of the chair out in front of me and I rest my elbow on it. She wipes the crook of my elbow down with an alcohol wipe and ties a rubber tie around my upper arm. A few seconds later, she inserts a needle, and we both watch the blood fill the vial. I've seen large amounts of my own blood before and it has never bothered me.

She takes the band off and then removes the needle. The nurse places a cotton pad over the dot of blood emerging from my arms and then wraps gauze around it. I put my jacket on over it, to hide it from the boys when I get home again. She tells me I'm all good to go and I should have the results in two to 48 hours. This entire thing is such a waiting game. I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life and all I want to do is tell Trevor everything when I'm scared. It feels heartless to keep it from him, but I he doesn't need the extra stress of it right now if I lose another one. 

I get into the truck and just take a moment to myself. I purse my lips and feel tears coming to my eyes. Fuck my hormones and emotions right now! I punch the steering wheel as hard as I can and the horn blares through the parking lot, making a woman and her toddler daughter jump. I put my hand up as an apology to them and then wrap my other hand around my stinging knuckles. I remember Floyd telling me to accept all forms of change, so I start the truck up and drive straight home.

-

"Where were you?" Trevor asks sweetly as I walk in the door. "You were up extremely early this morning."

"I'll tell you in two to 48 hours," I tell him.

He gives me an odd look. "I'm not even going to guess what that means, but I have something very exciting to show you."

"Oh yeah?" I smile.

He lifts his shirt up and his stitches are completely gone. Just a big scar is left now. "I called Chef about an hour ago and he walked me through it over FaceTime," he smiles proudly and I find it very cute.

"It looks great, Trev!" I tell him encouragingly. 

"Thanks! I did it all by myself in our bathroom upstairs. Anyway, I'm glad you're home. I had to tell you that Floyd called me this morning too and said that he and Floyd are good for this weekend, if you're still up for having them." He informs me.

"Of course! I'll have to get baking!" 

Johnny enters the room. "I'm going to shoot over and see if Franklin needs any help with jobs this week. So, I'll be out of your hair today."

"Come on, Johnny. You're never in our hair," I tell him.

"Well, thank you, but I still want to help, Frank. I'll see you both tonight," he says as he grabs a muffin from the container on the island and leaves the house.

"What do you want to do today? We pretty much have the entire day ahead of us," I say to Trevor.

"You," he smirks deviously.

I roll my eyes. "You still need to relax."

He puts a hand over mine on the table. "What if I told you it'd help me relax?" He whispers. "Johnny's left for school," he jokes.

"I don't know, T," I sigh. 

He looks at me sadly and gets up. He takes my hand and leads me over to the couch. He flops down and pats his lap. "Come here," he holds his arms out for me. I give him a look and he just motions me to him. I sit beside him on the couch and lay my legs across his lap, and rest my head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around me and holds my hand in my lap with the other. He kisses me on the forehead. "I know you have something heavy on your mind." I look at him, but he gently guides my head back to his shoulder. "It's ok," he tells me, "I know you'll tell me eventually, but I can tell you're stressed out. I just want you to relax. I'm almost completely better, but I'm well enough to look after you now. Let me."

I start crying, which makes me angry. I'm an absolute mess. Trevor wraps both arms around me and squeezes me into him. It's definitely the most secure I've felt in a long time. I want to tell him, but I refuse to until the doctor calls me. That's the only way I'm saying anything about this. I stay in his lap until I've calmed down, which takes a few minutes. He doesn't say anything. He just lets me do what I need. He's so understanding it scares me sometimes.

Finally, I sit up and look at him with red, puffy eyes. "I want to go to Vespucci."

-

Trevor and I find a spot near the shore, close to under the dock. He unfolds some beach towels and I kick my sandals off. I stand in the wind, just taking in the sea air. It always felt refreshing to me. I love being near water, whether it's the ocean, a lake, or pool. Trevor takes a seat on a towel and I take my cover-up off. I sit next to him, and he watches me curiously. I look at him and give him a smile.

"Thank you," I say.

"Don't thank me. I like coming here too. There's more character and sincerity here than at the Del Pierro Pier," he adds.

"I agree completely."

We banter for a few hours on the beach. He tells me about his time while I was gone and I tell him what it was like living at Michael and Amanda's for a bit. We both laugh as I tell him the stupid fights Amanda and Michael have on the regular. I love seeing Trevor laugh and smile. It was one of the few things that could remind me of the good in the world and in life. The wind picks up and he brushes my hair out of my face as I lay my head in his lap. 

We stay on the beach until the sun starts to go down, and we get a little tired. I can almost guarantee I have a sunburn. The drive home was mostly quiet. We're both tired and dehydrated from sitting in the sun all day. I recline in the passenger seat and just listen to Channel X as Trevor drives us home. I watched the tops of buildings fly by. I remind myself that I have to check my phone when we get back home.

Johnny isn't home yet, proven by the missing Hexer from the driveway. Trevor unlocks the door and I just about run inside. I go up the stairs and into our bedroom. I jump into the shower quickly, and my back and shoulders burn already. Trevor eventually makes his way upstairs and invites himself into the shower with me. I turn and face him. He looks into my eyes and smiles. I take his head in my hands and plant a long, passionate kiss on his lips. 

I step out of the shower and towel off. Quickly, I get dressed and then sit on the edge of the bed with my phone. I have a missed call and a voicemail. I recognize just enough of the number to know it's the doctor. The butterflies come back. That was quick. I listen to the message as Trevor is getting out of the shower. My anxiety makes me hear only bits and pieces, but I do hear the words: The results say that you are pregnant. Congratulations! I set my phone on the nightstand and Trevor walks into the bedroom. He gets a t-shirt and a clean pair of underwear from the dresser. He dresses and then sits beside me on the bed.

"What are you smiling so much for?" He asks me with a smile himself. He leans over and kisses me.

I take his hands. "I have something to tell you, Trevor." I look down at our hands and then back up to his curious eyes.

"Is it the thing you said you could tell me in two to 48 hours?" He asks. I nod. "Well, tell me quick because I'm nervous and I've been thinking about it all day," he looks at me anxiously.

I take a deep breath in. "I'm pregnant, Trevor."

"A-are you serious?" He stutters.

"Very," I smirk. His expression softens and he stands up from the bed, his back facing me. He doesn't say a word. "Trevor?" I say timidly. He turns around and looks at me. He puts a hand on his chest and his eyes are filled with tears, but his face is blank. "Are you upset?" I ask him sheepishly.

"Upset?" He repeats. "Besides meeting you and the day we got married, this is the best day of my life." A tear runs down his cheek and he lunges at me, grabbing me into an embrace. Both of us fall back onto the bed and I laugh, starting to cry tears of happiness. I can hear Trevor's muffled sobs. He finally gets up off me and sits beside me on the bed. "I'm sorry," he says as he helps me back up. He looks down at my stomach and says sorry again.

"It's ok, Trevor. I'm only about two months along." I reassure him.

"Only two months?" He rolls his eyes. "That's almost through the first trimester!" He wipes the tears from his face. "When did you find out? Is it healthy? We're really going to be parents? How is this possible?" He fires a series of questions at me.

"I only found out about a month ago. I wanted to make sure before I told you. We'll find out more at the next doctor's appointment, and as far as I know, yes, we're going to be parents. I mean, only one of my ovaries was damaged when I was shot. The other one is fine, I guess." I laugh.

"But your ovulation is all fucked up!"

"I know! It seems so impossible, but it happened," I smile at Trevor.

His eye get wide. "I'm going to be a father," he whispers and looks out into space, "oh my god, I'm going to be a father!"

I can see him start to panic. "Hey, look at me," I try to bring him back to the present. I place my hands on his cheeks. "You are a good man, Trevor. You've done some really bad things, but so have I. Deep down, you're a really good person. You're not your mom and you're not your dad, which means a lot. You're going to be a great dad and I know we can do this thing together. Ok?"

"Ok," he exhales and smiles softly. "We'll see where this takes us. Have you told anyone else?"

"No. Like I said, I wanted to make absolutely sure before I told anyone. You were always going to be the first one to know anyway. I do want you to help me with something though."

"What is it?" He wonders.

"Help me think of a way to tell Amanda," I giggle.

"Oh my god, she's going to freak the fuck out."


	87. Godparents

I grab the small cake as I get out of the truck. We're meeting Michael and Amanda for lunch at their house. My plan is to tell them the big news today, and Trevor actually looks nervous. We slowly approach the front steps and walk inside. Michael and Amanda are setting the table up in the dining room. I set the cake down on the island and Trevor puts a hand on my shoulder. I'm not sure if that's to comfort me or him.

"We brought something for dessert," I tell Amanda.

"Oh good! I actually have a killer sweet tooth right now, but I've been too lazy to pick up more ice cream. You know I love cake, so that'll be perfect." Amanda smiles as she walks some food from the kitchen over to the dinner table. 

"I heard 'cake'," Michael says as we all join him in the dining room.

"Yes, we brought cake," I laugh.

We all take a seat at the table. Michael and Amanda sit next to each other, across the table from Trevor and I. They prepared a very classic lunch. There's fried chicken, sandwiches, potato salad, regular salad, homemade fries, and various other sides. I grabbed a half of a sandwich, and as a side: potato salad and a few fries. Amanda jumps up from the table like she forgot something and quickly walks back into the kitchen. She comes back just as quickly and takes her seat across from me again. She sets a bottle of white wine on the table and reaches for the opener. 

"You want some, (your name)?" She smirks.

"Actually, I think I'll stick with lemonade," I say nervously. Trevor looks at me.

"More for me," she giggles. "Trevor? Michael?"

Trevor grabs my glass and pours me some of the lemonade from the pitcher on the table. "I'll take a beer," he says.

"Me too," Michael adds.

"Only me on the wine? Is everyone feeling ok?" She jokes and takes the bottle back into the kitchen and gets the boys their beers.

We're all pretty hungry and start chowing down immediately. The room goes quiet as we eat. I finish most of my sandwich and fries within five minutes. I pick my fork up and happily pick up a good helping of Amanda's potato salad. It's one of the best recipes I've ever tasted and I haven't had it in a long time. As I'm chewing, a sudden texture change forces me to stop. I drop my fork and it makes a loud, unintended noise as it hits the plate. Everyone looks over at me.

"You ok, (your name)? You look pretty much green," Michael says.

Trevor leans over and whispers in my ear, "Are you going to throw up?"

I nod. He puts his hand on my arm and guides me to the bathroom. Michael and Amanda look at each other in confusion and it makes me feel awful. I kneel in front of the toilet and throw up the lunch I just ate. I haven't eaten breakfast, so now there is nothing left in my stomach. Trevor is kneeling beside me, rubbing my back. I look at him as I wipe my mouth with toilet paper. He looks at me with sympathy. Nothing has been as bad as the first time and every time gets better than the last, but Trevor is concerned about my ability to hold down food.

Certain textures, tastes, and smells I just can't handle anymore. I forgot that Amanda puts egg in her potato salad, and that was the first food I started having problems with. Trevor stands and helps me up off the floor. I was my hands and we go back to the table. Amanda and Michael waited for us to return to eat. They both look at us waiting for an explanation, but not willing to ask what all that was about. 

"Well, you look better," Michael says to break the silence.

"Is the potato salad bad?" Amanda asks. "I don't want anyone else to eat it if it is."

"Oh, no!" I reach across the table and touch her wrist. "The potato salad is as good as I remember. I've just been having stomach issues lately."

"You poor thing," Amanda sighs. "It's one thing after another."

My stomach still feels a little off for the rest of lunch, but I manage to finish my sandwich and fries. Trevor eats my helping of potato salad and he goes on and on with Michael while I'm physically regrouping. I feel bad because Amanda obviously thought this lunch would go much differently, but I'm sitting quietly for most of it. I want to talk with everyone, but I feel so weak right now. Not to mention, always being tired anyways as a symptom.

"Well, is everyone ready for cake?" Amanda asks as she gathers up the plates.

"Yes!" I say excitedly. Amanda smiles at me suddenly showing some sign of life from across the table.

"I'll help you with that, honey," Michael says as he takes some plates from her and into the kitchen.

"How are we going to do this?" Trevor whispers to me when we're alone.

"You might hit it with the knife. Just make sure the piece ends up on their side of the table. You should cut it." I tell him.

Amanda and Michael come back into the dining room. She sets down the cake in the plastic container on the table. "I'll cut it," Trevor volunteers. He takes the cake knife and painstakingly cuts the cake. I engage Michael and Amanda in conversation to take the attention off of Trevor so he can figure the whole thing out. He places the first slice in front of me. The second one he sets on Michael and Amanda's side. The third he sets on our side, and he smiles at me as he places the fourth on their side. That's the one.

He carefully sets the cake knife on the exposed cardboard piece the cake sits on. We watch as Michael and Amanda decide on what piece they should take. Michael takes the piece that Trevor gave me a look with. We casually talk over cake, and Trevor and I wait with baited breath. Finally, Michael grimaces as he notices something hard in his piece of cake. Trevor holds my hand underneath the table. Michael pulls a little capsule from his lips and inspects it.

"What is that?" Amanda asks with a confused look on her face.

"I don't know, but it looks like it opens." As he says that, he pops it open and pulls a small roll of paper out. He unrolls it and Amanda looks at us, still extremely confused. "Will you be the godparents?" Michael reads out loud.

Amanda's eyes widen, but Michael doesn't seem to understand. "Are you-" Amanda starts to ask, but stops. I smile and nod. She screams at the top of her lungs and runs around the table to hug me. 

"Congratulations, man!" Michael says to Trevor. 

"Thanks, Mikey," Trevor says warmly. The two men hug.

Amanda lets go of me and is bawling her eyes out. We both laugh and she tries to wipe her tears away. "Are you serious about being the godparents?" She asks.

"Of course!" I say to her.

"You know we will," Michael says. 

Amanda nods excitedly, agreeing with her husband. "Congrats, Trevor!" She hugs him.

Michael hugs me. "Congratulations," he whispers in my ear. We all take our seats and try to calm down. I wipe at the corner of my eyes.

"How far along are you?" Amanda asks.

"About two months now," I say happily.

"Oh my god! You're almost in your second trimester and you look absolutely great! You're really not showing much at all. Well, now all the throwing up makes sense. I knew my potato salad wasn't rancid!" We all laugh. "When did you find out?"

"Well, about a month into it, there were enough symptoms that I started having suspicions. I took a few home tests and then about a month later I went to the doctor and he confirmed it."

"I just found out about a week or so ago," Trevor adds as he takes a sip of beer.

"I'm so excited! I can't wait to tell Tracey when she gets home. We'll have to throw you a shower! Do you have any names picked out?" Amanda is on the verge of tears again.

"Whoa, slow down there, ace," Michael laughs. "She's only two months along."

"Ugh, I know, but I love babies!" She turns to Michael, "Did you ever think they'd have one? This is a dream come true for me!"

"I believe that," Michael scoffs. "You probably have a journal hidden somewhere where you've written 'Day 4,352: Trevor and (your name) still haven't conceived and I'm honestly feeling a little stressed about it. Thank god for yoga!' with little hearts scribbled around the word 'yoga'," we all laugh at his joke. 

Amanda playfully hits Michael. "I've never done something that crazy, but that is the extent of how much I've wanted you two to have a baby."

"Really?" I feel myself blushing.

"Yes! Oh my god! Now is the perfect time for it to happen too. All our lives have calmed down and you're both healthier than you've ever been. So, I have to ask: did you guys decide to have kids?" Amanda asks shamelessly. 

"Oh my god," Michael groans to himself.

I laugh and look at Trevor, who's blushing. "No, this was very much a surprise. I didn't think I could get pregnant," I put my hand on my stomach for the first time since I found out.

"Well, all of us here know Tracey was a big surprise," she says happily. 

"It was the best surprise of our lives though," Michael says.

"Very true! What about you, Trevor? You're being awfully quiet for once. How do you feel?" Amanda asks him.

"I've had an eventful month, and I'm honestly just glad to be alive. I never thought I'd be _that_ person, but my outlook has changed big time. I'm very happy though," Trevor looks at me and puts his hand on my leg. "Everything happens for a reason."

Amanda is already wiping more tears from her cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm just so happy for you both."

"We're happy too, but god help the child with us for parents," I joke.


	88. The Big One?

Amanda grabs the empty plates with joy still on her face from the news. Michael begins to clean up some of the other dishes. I grab his sleeve. "Can I actually talk to you for a minute? Alone, with Trevor." Both of them give me an odd look, but they oblige. Michael agrees and the three of us step outside into the backyard.

"What's on your mind?" Michael asks me. 

Trevor and I take a seat across from Michael on the lawn chairs by the pool. He watches me carefully, already in protective mode of me and the baby. "I wanted to run something by the both of you," I begin.

"So no one is going to help with the cleanup?!" Amanda yells from the door to the dining room.

"Just leave it! We'll be back in a second! Just having a quick conversation!" Michael yells his reply. He looks at me, "Where were we?"

"Well," I sigh, "I've decided that I'm giving up crime now that we're going to be raising a kid. However, I have about seven months left."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Trevor interjects. "Where is this going?"

"The Big One," Michael says quietly. "We always talked about it, but never got the chance."

"The Union fucking Depository?!" Trevor yells. "No! Absolutely not!"

"Why not?" I challenge him.

"Because!" He roars. He checks his anger and shifts uncomfortably beside me. "Because," he says quieter, "you're pregnant." He gives me a look and I know exactly what he means. He's terrified of the possibility we might lose another one. 

"Yes, but I'm not disabled. At least for the first trimester. I want to do this before I start showing too much. Come on, T. We haven't done anything exceptional for too long. It'll be like old times, but for the last time." I try to convince him. Trevor thinks about it for a second.

"Nothing will happen to her, or the baby. The most she might have to do is some mild running." Michael chimes in.

"You're condoning this?!" Trevor becomes outraged again.

"Don't direct this at me! I know what she's capable of and let me remind you that my wife was pregnant, so I know a little more than you do about what (your name) can handle!" 

"Guys!" I break up the cat fight. "Trevor, I will be fine if we do this quick. I can still do it for a few more months. After this, you'll never have to worry about it again." All three of us go quiet for a few seconds.

"You promise?" Trevor finally says.

"Yes!" I answer excitedly.

"Listen to me," he adds, "you are to stay between Michael and I at all times. You will not do any heavy lifting. In fact, the only thing you'll be doing is just being present."

"We'll decide everyone's job when we decide on a plan with Lester. Can you give him a call, Michael?" 

"Sure thing. I'll do it now." He takes his phone out and walks off to the side of the house. 

"I'm going to help Amanda with the dishes," I say to Trevor. 

We both get up and head back inside, but he grabs my arm right before we make it to the house. "I'm going to try my best to stop too," he says to me sheepishly.

"Both of us will do our best. It's just a part of you and I to do bad things. Maybe this is the thing that gets us out of the game for good before something really bad happens." I try to comfort him.

"I think it's already happened," he says.

We both go inside and continue clearing the table. Amanda has disappeared to some other part of the house. I wrap everything unfinished in plastic wrap and store it in the fridge. Michael comes back in and helps with loading the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

"He wants to meet with all of us later this week. He has a front at a garment factory on the other side of town. I'll pick you guys up and we can all head over." He tells Trevor and I.

"Sounds great! Thank you, Michael," I smile.

-Later that week-

"Michael's outside," Trevor says softly from the doorway.

"Ugh," I grunt uncomfortably. "I'll be out in a second." I stand up and flush my vomit down the toilet. I wipe my mouth and apply some chapstick. This whole morning sickness bullshit is getting really obnoxious. I walk into our bedroom where Trevor is standing, with a look of worry on his face. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"Should you still be throwing up this much?" He asks with concern.

"Yes, it's normal. It can last into the second trimester. I asked Amanda about it. She said she never threw up past nine weeks, but everyone's pregnancy is different. I have a feeling I'm going to have a difficult one." I sigh. He looks slightly less tense.

We both go downstairs and say goodbye to Johnny. Michael's black sedan sits outside with the engine running. Trevor guides me to the car with a hand on my lower back. I reach for his hand and hold it. I hate how overly careful he's being, but I don't have it in me to tell him to knock it off. I really do find it sweet, but it makes me feel incapable. He opens the passenger side door for me and closes it once I'm in. He gets in the seat behind me.

"Ready?" Michael asks.

"As we'll ever be," Trevor answers.

Michael drives us over to the garment factory. It was a fairly long car ride and we had a lot of time to talk. Michael reassured Trevor that I would be ok, but Trevor kept going over everything that could possibly go wrong and how Michael didn't know if everything would be ok. We all acknowledge that the baby is relatively safe while still inside my body. I can't wait to see what he's like once the baby is born.

The three of us walk up the stairs and spot Lester behind a desk. He gets up and leads us into the back office to talk. Nothing has changed much. There's a large cork board with papers pinned sloppily to it with red arrows drawn to various places on the map. 

"Lester the molester!" Trevor says loudly. "Long time, no see!"

"Indeed," Lester says nervously, "hi, Trevor." He limps over to the cork board. "Ok, so I've come up with two options for all of you. The first one is loud way; you'll need to basically drill your way into where they keep the gold. The other way is more quiet: you'll pose as guards and they'll practically hand you the gold. Are we going to decide like we used to?" We all give various displays of agreement. "Ok, then on the count of three: 1, 2, 3," he counts us off. Michael, Trevor, and I all say "B" at the same time. "Then it's unanimous. We'll need to get a helicopter and tail the armored trucks. You also might need two extra guys."

"I've got the helicopter," Trevor says.

"I've got the two guys," I add.

"Then it looks like everything is set. Get in touch with me when we can use the helicopter," says Lester.

"Just let me know when you're not getting a colonoscopy because the chopper is good to go," Trevor jeers. He has always given Lester a hard time.

"Tomorrow then," Lester says plainly. "That work for you?" He says with a slight attitude.

"Yeah, tomorrow is perfect. So, what is everyone doing in this plan?" Trevor asks. He looks at me briefly.

"You, (your name), and Michael will be guards. The two other guys will act as a pit and tech crew." Lester answers.

"So, will we three be relatively safe?" 

"Since when are you concerned about safety?" Lester laughs and makes eye contact with Michael, who motions his hand across his neck. Lester's face immediately goes blank and he clears his throat.

"Some things are a little different since the last time we pulled a heist," Trevor says sternly.

"Ok, ok, take it easy," Lester says. "Yes, you will be safe if you stick to the plan. I'll make up some fake ID's in the meantime. You'll need them to get past the gate at the UD." He takes a seat at a desk behind a laptop.

"See ya tomorrow, Les. Thanks for your help," Michael says as we walk out the door.

"Yeah, thanks, Lester," I say. He gives us a nod.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," Michael says with a smile. "We've been dreaming about this. I mean, we'll be set for life!"

"Cool it there, cowboy," Trevor interjects. "Let's actually get through the job before we get excited about it."


	89. Midnight Snack

My eyes open and stare at the ceiling above me. I look over and see it's a little past midnight. My stomach growls loudly, but is somewhat drowned out by Trevor's snoring. I kiss him on the cheek and then get out of bed. Quietly, I creep downstairs to the kitchen. I stare at the pantry for too long before I move to the fridge. A piece of cake stares back at me from on of the shelves in the fridge. I nearly drool as I pick the plate up. When the door shuts, I see a figure out of the corner of my eye.

I jump, nearly dropping the cake. "Fuck! Johnny, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry," he rubs his eye. "I heard someone downstairs and came to check it out."

"Well, thanks for being such a good watchdog," I laugh as I take a seat at the dinner table. He grabs some chips from the pantry and sits with me at the table. I sigh with absolute bliss as I take a bite of the cake. Food has never tasted so good. Johnny's crunching on chips brings me back to reality. "There's a lot I need to catch you up on, Johnny K," I say playfully.

"Oh yeah?" He says with a mouthful.

"For starters, we're in the process of planning out a heist. We're going to need your help."

"What's the gig?" He asks curiously.

"We're hitting the Union Depository. I need you to work with Franklin. You remember me telling you about Lester, right?"

"Yeah. Wasn't he like the brains behind each heist?" He tries to confirm as he shovels chips in his mouth.

"Yes! That's him. We're working with him again. Michael, Trevor, and I are going to act as guards," I inform him.

"Where do Franklin and I come in?"

"Lester wants us to tail an armored truck. We're going to lay a track of tire spikes in a tunnel. You and Franklin come in and help switch the tires out. Trevor and Michael will take over the trucks. You and Franklin will ride back to a base and control the traffic lights to keep Merryweather off of us. Sound easy enough?"

"Sure, and it sounds mildly fun," he smirks. "What's the other stuff you had to catch me up on?"

I exhale and look down at my hands in my lap. "I'm pregnant," my eyes flit up to his.

He stops chewing. "I should've known. You've been spewing chunks for weeks. Does Trevor know?"

"Yes, he knows. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I've been trying to wrap my brain around it."

"It's fine. How does he feel about it?" 

"He's very happy, and he's being surprisingly protective even though it's still in my body," I laugh. 

Johnny giggles and then his face goes stoic, "What does he think about you doing this heist?"

"Oh, he absolutely hates it. The only reason he's being so cool about it is because I promised that this is it for me."

"And will it be it for you?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "I don't want to put a kid of mine in that kind of danger."

"What about him?" 

"He said he's going to try to give it up too. I don't have a lot of faith in that, but we'll have to wait and see." I tell Johnny honestly. We go silent, but Johnny smiles out of nowhere. "What are you smiling at?" I ask and I can't help but smile too.

"I'm going to be an uncle," he says happily.

I smile even wider, "Yes, you are. Please don't be the insane uncle that does dangerous stuff though."

"Of course not! I'm probably more responsible than the father," he laughs.

"You're probably right," I laugh too. "I have to say how incredibly scared I am."

"What do you mean?" He asks. I sit for a second and think. Tears start to well up in my eyes and I cover my face with my hands. "Hey," he says softly, "hey, hey, hey. What are you getting worked up about? It's ok."

I wipe the tears from my cheeks. "Trevor is _so_ hard on himself about this. It really kills me and I know I can't make him feel better."

"What are you talking about?" Johnny asks quietly.

"Trevor's parents were complete assholes and he's scared he's going to be the same way. I'm scared enough that I'm going to be like my mother, and I am really anxious about Trevor taking on fatherhood. How can I be sure he won't continue to do dangerous heists or pick up meth again? How can I be sure our kid even comes out normal and not like a serial killer or whatever? How can I be sure that this won't be too much for Trevor and he ends up running off?" I choke back sobs.

"You can't be sure of Trevor's behavior in the future. Hell, you can't even be sure of your own behavior in the future. He could just as easily be wondering the same things about you, but I'm pretty sure your kid isn't going to be serial killer. Both of you are so passionate about the family just the two of you have been for so long and I know you both have a lot of love to give. You're both good people at the core." He gets up and hugs me. "You're going to be ok. You're going to be an amazing mother and Trevor is going to be an amazing father. I'll be here to smooth things over if you two fuck up."

We both laugh and I wipe the last of my tears from my eyes. "You're going to stay around here?"

"If you'll let me."

I go in for another hug. "You're always welcome here, Johnny. I need you to keep living with us so I can keep an eye on you. I'm going to lose my mind if one more friend fakes their death!"

"Fair enough," he chuckles.

"Alright, well, I'm going back up to bed. Growing another human inside your body makes you so tired all the time."

"Ok, goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow. Well, actually later today."

I smile. "Goodnight, Johnny."

I go back upstairs and creep back into my bedroom. Carefully, I slide back into bed and slide the covers over me. Trevor's snores go silent, and I know I've woken him up slightly. He rolls over and faces me. I put my back towards him and he wraps and arm around my waist, and pulls me closer to him. I can feel him nuzzle his face into the back of my neck. 

"I love you, (your name)," he says groggily.

I smile in the darkness and place my arm over his. "I love you too, Trev."


	90. The Big One!

I straighten the bulletproof vest over the green shirt Trevor, Michael, and I had the pleasure of wearing. I look in the mirror.The last time we did anything like this was probably the heist-gone-wrong. I feel rusty about running heists, but at the same time I know how to navigate a job like the back of my hand. For us, it's like riding a bike. I go to leave the small half bathroom in the garment factory to join the group and I notice how uncomfortably snug the shirt and vest are on me. I gave Lester my usual size, but I guess I'm starting to show more than I realize. 

"Everyone ready?" Michael asks as I walk into the office.

"Yep," I reply unemotionally. I have to get in the headspace for this.

Michael, Trevor, Lester, Franklin, Johnny, and I all head downstairs and out the main doors. Franklin, Lester, and Johnny get in the car in the very front and drive off. Trevor, Michael, and I quickly get in the next car and Michael drives us towards downtown. We're looking for a Gruppe Sechs armored vehicle. A few minutes later of us driving around looking for it, Lester comes in over our ear pieces. "Should be right around the corner from your locations," he informs us. "Stay put and keep your eyes peeled." Sure enough, a big white and green armored truck drives down the street parallel to the one we're on. 

Michael quickly takes the car out of park and tries to get us to the tunnel before the truck. Once we're in, the three of us scramble out of the car and lay the tire spikes. We wait patiently in the car and watch the truck approach. It gains speed as it unknowingly closes in on the spikes. Loud pops echo through the tunnel, which Johnny and Franklin use as their signal to enter the tunnel. They move quickly to replace the tires and Trevor, Michael, and I go to take the drivers hostage. 

The three of us take a shotgun from the backseat of the car and make our way over to the trucks. Michael starts yelling at one of the drivers and aims his shotgun at him. I walk over to the second truck, but Trevor grabs the back of my collar and practically pushes me out of his way. I lose my balance and my shoulder goes into the side of the armored vehicle. I wince and Trevor looks at me with a blank expression, and then focuses on the second driver and passenger. He aims his shotgun and yells at them to get out of the truck. 

I watch him as my blood begins to boil. Why the hell did he do what he just did? Johnny taps the side of the truck twice and gets back in the car with Franklin. They ride off to the base to join back up with Lester. Michael gets in the first trucks and starts driving to the UD. Trevor climbs into the driver's seat of the second truck and has the two guards sit in the back of the cockpit area. I walk in front of the truck, holding my shotgun in the ready position aimed at the ground. Trevor and I lock eyes and I don't break eye contact as I slowly walk to the passenger side.

"We don't have time to walk. Hustle," he says to me.

I ignore his warning and continue to get in the truck at a leisurely pace. After all I've been through, I don't care if I fuck up the timing. Lester plans these things to give us some extra time in each step anyway. As Trevor drives, I turn around and aim the gun at the two guards.

"Look," I start, "we're not going to hurt you guys." I can see them both shaking. "Just stay calm and be helpful. That'll guarantee that everything goes well."

Before we know it, we're at the outer gate at the UD. An armed guard comes over. I look at one of the guards in the back and he shows his ID to the armed guard. Michael drives the first truck through the gate and backs it up against a concrete platform. Trevor follows Michael's lead and we all jump out of the truck. We line up on the platform and a man in an expensive suit walks down the line and checks our ID's. He hesitates when he looks at Trevor's. I told Lester it was a stupid fucking idea to use a picture from a decade ago. But the man gives us the ok and we take the carts out of the trucks. 

I make it over to the truck before Trevor and I open the back doors. Trevor comes over and wedges himself between me and the truck like someone wanting to use the microwave first. I don't move though, so he nudges me with his shoulder. Michael happens to be watching us as he pulls out the other cart. He can tell I'm getting frustrated and gives me a nod. He's trying to tell me to remain calm and collected for just a few more minute and then I can get angry. I give a nod back and take a deep breath in.

We follow the man in the suit to a back room and then through a large vault. Once he leads us to a small caged area with stacks upon stacks of gold bars. Michael enters first and begins loading up his cart. I make my way for a stack and as soon as I put my hands on them, Trevor snatches them from my hands. I watch in awe as he loads them onto the cart. What did I do to piss him off so much? He doesn't even stop to give me a look and just continues to load up the cart.

As the boys wheel the carts back, the man in the suit engages in casual conversation. I purposely walk behind everyone so I don't have to be included in anything. I'm so over this job if I'm not allowed to participate. It's too calm. I was expecting to feel more of a thrill, but Trevor has managed to take that from me every time the opportunity presents itself. We all get back in the trucks and make our way to the bridge. 

Johnny and Franklin are waiting under the bridge with gauntlets. All the boys load the gold into the back of the gauntlets, but they hand each guard one bar and tell them to get lost. I watch them run off and laugh quietly to myself. Michael and Trevor put a sticky bomb on each truck and detonate them. I can feel the heat of the explosion as the trucks catch on fire. Franklin and Lester get in one of the gauntlets and drive to the lock up. Johnny gets in the second gauntlet.

"Alright, which one are we taking?" Trevor asks me plainly. I ignore him and walk past him. I open the passenger door of the gauntlet Johnny claimed and get in. 

"What's going on?" Johnny looks at me with confusion.

"Nothing," I say genuinely. "Just drive." 

Johnny starts up the car and drives out from under the bridge. I watch through my peripherals as Trevor watches us take off defeatedly. He can ride back with Michael. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of sucking the fun out of this. Lester planned for each car to take a separate path to the lock-up to avoid raising suspicion, so I'm not worried about them following us around. I pull off the bulky helmet and bulletproof vest and throw it in the back seat.

"Well, Johnny K, I think that was a mission successful," I sigh with content.

He laughs. "Yeah, I gotta hand it to Lester. He knows how to plan this stuff."

"He sure does. God, I remember when Michael first introduced us to him. I practically heard angels singing. It took a lot of pressure off of us. It also prevented a lot of arguments about everyone's personal theories on how we should run a heist." I tell him. 

"So," Johnny starts with hesitation, "I have to ask this, but why not ride back with Trevor? You two are glued at the hip."

"I don't really want to talk about it. It's just going to get me fired up."

"Fair enough," he says. I turn the radio on and we take a leisurely cruise to the lock-up.

-

We drive past a gate that Franklin slides shut after we enter. Johnny and I exit the car and see that the other two are already here. I spot a table with a change of clothes for Michael, Trevor, and I, and I make a beeline for it. I quickly begin to unbutton my green shirt.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell are you doing?!" Trevor barks at me.

I toss my shirt to the side on the concrete, leaving me standing there in black slacks and my bra. "Changing," I say expressionlessly. "What does it look like I'm doing?" I put the oversized white t-shirt on and begin to unbutton my pants.

"Do you have to do it in front of everyone?" Trevor tries to ask me discreetly.

I pull down the pants and kick them to the side, next to the green shirt. The t-shirt I put on hangs past my underwear, so no one can see them. "It's pretty much the same thing as a bathing suit, Trevor. Besides, no one here has any interest in me like that besides you."

He leans in and grumbles "What about Johnny?" in my ear.

I twist my torso to look at Johnny. "He's over there unloading the gold. No one is even paying attention except Lester, but he's just waiting on you and Michael to change so he can burn the uniforms and debrief us." 

I grab a pair of jeans off the table and put them on. They're a tad big, so I cuff the bottoms. Everything feels like it's swallowing me, so I tuck in the t-shirt too. Trevor gives in to my logic and begins to strip too. Michael starts to change as well. A few minutes later, Franklin and Johnny rejoin the group and we all wait for Lester's instruction. He stands in the group with all of us and presents a bottle of champagne.

"Here's something to celebrate a job well done," he smiles. "I don't think it could've gone any better. All that's left is to find a place to melt it down and sell it off, but I'll take care of all of that. We'll all be able to retire after the money comes in." 

The boys make various noises of excitement. Michael takes the bottle from Lester and pops it open. Lester sets some glasses on the table that had all the clothes on it. I walk off a short distance and sit on the hood of one of the gauntlets. The sun is starting to go down and I intend to enjoy at least one thing today, even if it's only a sunset. I pictured retiring from crime being a lot more riveting. So, I sit for a few minutes by myself and soak in the day.

Johnny comes over with a drink in his hand. "What are you doing over here? The party's that way," he says jokingly and points to the other guys that are huddled around and having an aggressively passionate conversation about something.

"It's just been quite a day. I'm ready to go to bed, to be perfectly honest," I say.

He laughs. "Could you ever believe that you'd want to go to bed before sundown? That's so unlike you, Ms.Night Owl."

"I know," I laugh weakly. "It's not really me though. It's this kid!" I wrap my arms across my stomach.

Johnny glances down at my stomach. "Thank god I'm a man," he says and takes a swig of champagne.

"Yeah, you guys have it good," I joke.

"Why don't you come back to the group? You're making me sad looking over here to see you all by your lonesome."

"Fine," I say like a stubborn teenager. We both walk over to the other guys. Lester notices us approaching and holds out a glass to me. "I can't, Les, but thanks."

"Oh come on, you've never declined a celebratory drink before." He urges.

"No, I really can't," I look around and everyone is watching us. Michael, Trevor, and Johnny already know why, but no one says anything. They just continue to stare at us uncomfortably and get unnervingly quiet. "I'm pregnant," I say. Lester's smile fades.

"Oh, shit!" Franklin exclaims.

We all look at him for his odd reaction. Lester puts the glass down on the table. "Oh," he says. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Congratulations."

"Thank you," I reply. I thought this was a good thing, but suddenly everyone seems so down about my admission. "What's up with all the long faces?" I ask.

"There are no long faces." Lester answers. "It's just very shocking. I don't know about everyone else, but I never pictured you and Trevor having kids."

Franklin adds a sassy, "Mmmhmm," as he takes a sip of his drink.

"Well, sorry to disappoint all of you," I say as I turn on my heels and begin to walk off again. I didn't really want to hang out with everyone anyway. Johnny forced me over here. I really just want to be alone. 

Trevor places his glass down and runs to catch up with me. His hands grasp my arms and he holds me in place in front of him. He looks me in the eyes. "Hey, don't listen to them. They're genuinely happy for us, but they don't process surprises very good. Just give them time and before you know it, they'll be oozing with excitement." He smiles at me.

I shove him and he stumbles backwards. His smile quickly vanishes and a look of hurt replaces it. "Well that was uncalled for."

"Wasn't it?!" I say a little louder than I meant it. I'm starting to choke up. "Isn't it just fantastic to be pushed around when all you're trying to do is be kind to the people around you and have fun?!" I yell at him and feel the tears starting to form. I can see that he's starting to realize how my day went compared to his. By now, everyone else is watching us like a fight on reality tv.

"I told you I didn't want you doing any hard work. I was just trying to protect you," he says with hurt in his voice.

"I don't need you to do that! Just because I have a fucking fetus growing inside me does not make me disabled or incapable of doing basic things! At this rate, you'll have me confined to the bed by the time the baby is due! This was supposed to be my last hoorah and you made me feel like I wasn't allowed to be a part of it! Stop trying to live my life for me when your standard of danger comes into play!"

"Well, boo-fucking-hoo! It must be great to be able to yell at me constantly for trying to be a decent husband! I'm trying my best here!" He sounds like he's getting choked up too. I wipe a tear away from my eye. I'm determined not to stand here and cry in front of everyone. "I mean, you are always railing me for fucking up and you have no idea how much that scares me! Everyday leading up to when you told me you're pregnant, I was terrified of disappointing _you_. Now, there's a kid added to the mix! Something entirely new to fuck up in awful ways for the rest of his or her life! Do you have any idea how much I get in my head about that?!" He yells at me while everyone stares at us.

I stand there in silence. He looks at me like he's waiting for an answer. I can feel the anger and just a storm of emotion in general building up in me. I can't hold it in and I let out a sob. I start shaking with anger and tears stream down my face. Trevor sighs and rubs his forehead. He slowly walks over to me and goes to wrap his arms around me. I flinch, wanting to push him as hard as I can. "Just stop. Let me hold you." I surrender and he wraps his arms around me in an embrace. 

When I feel the comforting warmth of him surround me, I completely relax and bury my face in his chest. He whispers quietly in my ear, "You've pushed me away in so many ways for years. I'm not letting you do that anymore. We're a team and I'm always on your side. Don't forget that." He kisses the top of my head. "I'm sorry I kept you from participating today. It wasn't fair." 

"What the hell are all of you staring at?!" Johnny yells at Michael, Lester, and Franklin. "Haven't you had an argument with someone you care about before?" They all turn and start having a side conversation again. Trevor and I look over and laugh. Johnny is the best.

Trevor holds my head in his hands and gets a good look at me. "You really are a lot more sensitive now," he laughs. "You look absolutely exhausted. Wanna head home?"

"Yes!" I say excitedly. "I told Johnny like an hour ago how tired I am."

"Johnny!" Trevor calls over to him. "Ready to hit the road?"

"We going home?" He asks.

"Yeah, she needs to get some rest. We all do," Trevor adds.

"Agreed." Johnny puts his glass down on the table and jogs over to us. 

We say our goodbyes to everyone. Lester and Franklin apologize for their initial reaction, and, just like Trevor said, express their genuine excitement for us. Johnny, Trevor, and I walk around the side of the lock-up where Trevor's Bodhi, Michael's Tailgater, and Franklin's Buffalo are parked. Trevor gets in and starts up the truck. Johnny open the passenger side door for me and I climb in the middle. Once Johnny is in, we head home.

-

We all head immediately for our rooms. It isn't very late in the night, but it was a long and eventful day. Trevor and I enter the master bedroom and he shuts the door behind himself. We both change out of our clothes quickly and into more comfortable clothes, wanting to get to bed quickly. I crawl in bed and Trevor is close behind. He turns out the light. As we lay in bed, he holds my hand. We both stare up at the ceiling. 

"Trev?" I say quietly.

"Yeah?" 

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for everything recently. I'm sorry I left and made you feel like you ruined something. I'm sorry about the accident. I'm sorry I'm so hard on you. I see my mother's behavior when I do that and it makes me uncomfortable. I never mean to make you feel like you fuck things up. My hormones are making me insane right now, but I really want to make an effort to stop. You're human and you're aloud to make mistakes without feeling punished for them."

"Thank you, crazy cakes, but you really don't need to apologize. Even when you're acting crazy, I know that your heart is in the right place. They way you go about it is just a little misguided." He says in a light-hearted way.

I laugh. "Same here with you, T."


	91. The Nursery

Turning the page of a magazine, I see there's a story of some celebrity who just had a baby. The picture on the first page of the article is of her, holding her baby in a rocking chair. I smile to myself and imagine that being me in a few months. I look up from the magazine and across the way at Trevor. He's sitting with me at the dinner table, painstakingly going over papers for T.P.I. In his other hand, he takes a pencil and writes down numbers with intense focus. He enjoys this.

"Hey, Trev?" I sheepishly try to pull his attention from work.

"Yeah?" He answers without looking up or ceasing to scribble down numbers.

"This article just reminded me that we haven't even started on a nursery yet."

"You're right," he scoffs. "We've been all over the place lately that it must have slipped our minds. I tell you what, let me finish this form and then we can go out?"

"We haven't even discussed it yet," I giggle.

"There's nothing wrong with seeing what our options are."

"True." I close the magazine and get up from the table.

I'm now five months along and showing quite a bit. Laying on my side is now slightly uncomfortable and I know it's only going to get worse. Every time I hang out with Amanda she laughs, sighs, and then tells me the worst has yet to come. It's like clockwork. Every now and again, I can feel it moving. Amanda goes on and on about how precious it is, but I just want it to pick a position and stay right fucking there. None of my shoes or old clothes fit. As much as that pisses me off, it also pisses Trevor off because I enjoy wearing his t-shirts and sweatpants far more than maternity blouses with no shape to them and jeans with elastic on them. Whoever thought making jeans for pregnant women was a good idea clearly wasn't pregnant and wants us to suffer. 

I go upstairs and put on one of those shapeless, billowy tops because it's the only way I can look presentable in public. I strip off Trevor's gray sweatpants and put on a cotton skirt. That's another thing. Everything I wear now is cotton because it's the only thing I feel comfortable in. I feel like I'm wearing a straight jacket in anything else. I'm always sweaty and tired. Another thing Amanda does now is that she'll give me this look of pity and go on to tell me that she didn't even have this much trouble with Tracey. What can I say? I have extraordinary luck.

The doctor was a little concerned during my last visit. I trust her 100% and she seems very genuine in her love for her work. I've been feeling so awful that she has kept pushing back an ultrasound, but she really wants me to do one on my next visit. Amanda has also been bugging me about that. She wants to see the sonograms so badly and keeps begging me to do one with her there. Trevor has been a little anxious for one too, just to calm him by seeing that the baby is ok. My doctor just wanted to focus on getting me to feel better first. She also told us that we wouldn't be able to find out the sex until about the midway point anyway, so we might as well just wait.

I've never been one for this much undivided attention. I can't say I totally love it. I'm worried enough about myself and it's just stressful for everyone to constantly ask how I'm feeling and if I'm ok. I feel like shit and no, I'm not ok. I feel as big as a house and I just want to nap and be left alone. I just want to walk around the house without the restriction of pants, but I don't want to look at my gross swollen feet and Johnny's always around. It just fucking sucks. Miracle of life my ass!

"Ready to go?" Trevor pokes his head in the room, forcing me to quit my ungrateful thinking.

"Yeah," I smile and follow him back downstairs.

We get into the truck and I give Amanda a call. She's been my light in the darkness through this whole thing. I ask her where we should go to look for some things for a nursery. She tells me that she still has Tracey and Jimmy's crib and I can have it if I want it. I accept without having to think about it for a split second. That's the most important thing, in my opinion. Then, she recommends a place she used to order things from before they moved to Los Santos.

"Might as well just go to their house. Amanda's giving us Tracey and Jimmy's crib." I tell Trevor after I get off the phone.

"Well that's one less thing we have to worry about," he says optimistically.

-

"Believe me, it's sturdy. It's solid wood." Michael tells us as we follow him upstairs. "I'm going to give you a heads up, T, it's a pain in the ass to put together." He pulls down the stairs to the attic and climbs up. Michael slides it to the opening in the ceiling and Trevor helps pull it down. 

Both of them carry it out and put it in the truck. I join Amanda in the kitchen. If I don't get a cold drink, I'm going to pass out. She gives me that pitiful look and immediately goes towards the fridge. She pours a glass of water from one of those pitchers that filters the water and slides the glass across the island to me. I down about three quarters of it right there. She sits on a stool beside me, waiting to engage me in conversation.

"How are you feeling today?" She asks with a sad, sympathetic tone in her voice.

"Same as always," I reply.

"Has the nausea gotten any better?"

"A little. It's nowhere near what it was in the beginning and thank god for that." I say in an annoyed manner. I wince and groan, grabbing my side. "It's moving again."

"No kicks yet?" She asks excitedly.

"No, still no kicks. The doctor said since this is my first baby I probably won't feel it for another month or so. The movements only just started. Give the baby some time, Amanda," I laugh.

The boys come back in and join us in the kitchen. "You got the biggest piece of furniture out of the way, now you have to worry about all the little stuff you won't even realize you'll need," says Michael.

"That's so true," Amanda looks at me. "You have to get crib liners, blankets, start getting clothes, diapers, wipes, and all that stuff. Don't worry about most of it. We'll get you all the stuff that was helpful for us when we have the baby shower. You two just worry about a theme for the room and decorations."

"Well, we don't know the sex of the baby yet, so I was thinking something neutral. Even if it's a girl, I'm _not_ painting the walls pink. Maybe a pastel yellow or green is best." I look over at Trevor to see what his opinion is.

"Whatever _you_ want," he answers.

"Oh, come on. It's your house and your baby too." I urge him.

"I think yellow is a more universal color. You might be able to match more things with it." He says.

"Then pastel yellow it is," I smile. "I don't know if we'll even bother with a theme. It'll be too hard to decide on one and it's just going to cause all four of us to fight." All of us laugh.

"Ok, well, just send me a picture when you decide on the color," Amanda says hopefully.

"We should have you over sometime. It seems kind of crazy that you haven't been to our place yet." I say to her.

"I'd like that, and I can help you paint!"

"That or I can make Johnny do it," I tease.

"I think it'd be good for you to paint the room," Amanda says. "It's part of the 'nesting' process."

"I expect you to bring over a lot of food then if you're helping," I say half joking.

"Will do," she giggles. 

"Thanks, you guys. You both have been extremely helpful." I tell Michael and Amanda. 

"You know we don't mind. We're just giving you the tips and tricks we needed when we were going through this." Michael says.

"Yes, and you know how excited I am about it anyway," Amanda blushes.

"I'll text you when we pick a color," I reassure her.

"You better," she says playfully.

Trevor and I get in the truck and head back home. He and Johnny take the crib upstairs and I immediately go to look at paint colors online. I always enjoyed painting rooms. I appreciate how quiet and focused of an activity it is. It allows for a lot of thought, or none at all. My eyes quickly go to the yellow section and then to the lightest end of the variety of colors. I click on a square and pull up "pineapple cream". I knew cream would be in the title.

"Trevor," I call him as he comes back downstairs. "Come look at this."

I hear his footsteps coming closer and closer until he's right behind me. He looks over my shoulder at the screen. "I like it. It's like a mix of yellow and an off-white."

"I think this is what I'm going with if you like it too. I don't want anything with too much of a yellow undertone. Yellow definitely isn't my favorite color, but I really don't mind this."

He kisses me on the cheek, "Then go for it, cupcake. Also, if you hear yelling upstairs, don't get worried. Johnny and I will probably be arguing over the use of the screwdriver. We're probably going to be up there a while. If I get tired of yelling at him and he decided to take a break, I'll send him to the paint store."


	92. Omen

Trevor gently shakes me awake. As I come to, I realize I had the nightmare about North Yankton for the first time in years. Trevor's eyes dart from mine to a spot at the foot of the bed. He frantically calls my name to make sure I'm waking up and puts a hand on my cheek. Not only does his voice sound shaky, but he is literally shaking. I look at him in confusion and blink hard to clear my vision.

"What's wrong?" I ask him.

He disregards my question. "Listen to me," he whispers, "I need you to slowly sit up if you can."

"Why? What's wrong, Trevor? You're making me nervous." 

He just stares at me, and his lips purse. He doesn't want to answer me and is stalling from having to do so. He realizes there's no getting around it, and he tells me. "You're bleeding. I need you to slowly sit up if you're not in pain."

His directions were meant to keep me calm, but I sit up as quick as I can. In the darkness, there's a large glimmering black spot around my lap. I throw back the covers in a panic, not caring where it lands. My shorts are nearly half drenched from the blood carrying through the fabric. The same can be said for the sheet underneath me. Blood is caked over my thighs and as the air circulate around the room, my lower half feels cold. 

"No, no, no," I say quietly, but with much distress. 

Trevor pulls me to him and embraces me as I start sobbing. He kisses me on the forehead. "I'm sorry I have to be insensitive right now, but we need to go to the hospital. I'm going to get a towel for you to sit on in the car, and then I'll help you downstairs." He gets out of bed quickly and storms out of the room.

I dig in my nightstand for a pen and any piece of clean paper. I find a notepad and begin to write: "Johnny, we're at the hospital. I'm ok, but there might be something wrong with the baby. Call us if you need to." I rip the paper off of the pad and go downstairs, trying to take my time with each step. I put the note on the dinner table and Trevor and I cross paths. He gives me a look for having gone down the stairs by myself since it pretty much looks like I'm bleeding out. He hands me the towel and walks with me out to the truck.

He drives as quickly as he can, which makes me nauseous. When we finally arrive at the hospital, he tells me to wait and goes in ahead of me. A few short moments later, he comes back outside with a nurse who is rolling out a wheel chair. Trevor helps me out of the car and the nurse grimaces at the blood all over my thighs. That definitely eases the anxiety. I plop down into the wheelchair a little harder than I should've and Trevor gives me another look. 

The nurse wheels me right in and past the waiting room. As we're about to cross the threshold to the hallway of patients' rooms, a male nurse steps in front of Trevor and tells him he can't go with me. He usually would've knocked the nurse out, but he stays quiet reluctantly.

"Wait!" I yell to the nurse pushing my wheelchair. She does so, and I try my best to turn around. I look at the male nurse. "Look, I understand you don't want us to feed off of each other's nerves while you're trying to do your job, but we're here to find out what's going on with _our_ baby. I'm not about to sit in a room by myself and leave him in the dark on the situation. He's coming with me."

The male nurse looks taken aback. I don't think anyone has ever called him out on any of his bullshit before. He looks at Trevor, gives him a nod, and walks off. Trevor makes a hustle down the hallway to catch up with us and the nurse take us to a private room with an ultrasound machine. She helps me onto the bed and tells us the technician will be in shortly. As soon as she leaves, Trevor sits on the bed next to me.

"Whatever the answer ends up being," he says as he takes my hands in his, "I want you to know it's not your fault."

"It really does depend on what the answer is," I reply bitterly. "I may have overexerted myself somehow. I know I shouldn't have been involved in that last heist at all, but I wasn't as far along so I though it was ok. I don't know. We've lost one before. It's completely possible and more likely this time around that it's going to happen again."

"You can't think like that. You've come this far. Any kid of ours is going to be a force to be reckoned with," he smiles, trying to cheer me up.

"I don't disagree with that, but my body is the problem. Not the baby."

A woman in a white lab coat walks in the door. Her hair is pulled back tightly into a severe bun, which makes me feel more wound up oddly. She plants herself on the stool and rolls herself over to the machine. "Hi," she says with a sympathetic tone. "I'm sorry you're both here on such circumstances. I'm going to try to get this done as quickly as possible for ease of getting you the results. Now, I'm going to perform and ultrasound. Can you please lift up your shirt?" She asks.

I pull my shirt up as she puts on blue rubber gloves. She squirts the translucent blue gel onto my stomach. The coldness of it makes me take a deep breath in and shiver. Trevor stands beside the bed and keeps a hand of his on my shoulder. The technician turns the machine on and watches a monitor as she glides the transducer along my stomach. I try to find some answers for myself on the monitor, but it just looks like a weird kind of static on a tv.

She cleans the transducer and shuts the machine off. She throws away her gloves and sits in front of Trevor and I on her stool. "Good news: the baby is alive and well. You had a large subchorionic hemorrhage. It's not usually a threat to the pregnancy. It happens when the placenta detaches from the point of implantation. You and the baby are going to be perfectly fine if you remember these things: no exercise, no sex, and get lots of bed rest."

Trevor and I are too stunned at the good news to know what to say. I honestly can't believe it. "Oh, uh, thank you," I mumble.

"You're quite welcome. I love giving that kind of news. Now, just talk to the receptionist out front and you're free to go," she smiles. Trevor helps me back into the wheelchair. "Oh and, dad," she says to Trevor, "I'm counting on you to make sure mom and baby get that rest. I know she might say she feels good on some days, but she needs to rest as much as possible."

Trevor gives her a salute as an agreement to her orders and wheels me back out the the waiting area. He settles our visit with the receptionist and we're back out to the truck. As Trevor is getting in the truck to drive us home, his phone starts ringing. He digs it out of his pocket. "It's Johnny," he tells me as he answers it and puts it on speaker. "Hey, Johnny. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," he says sarcastically, "I just about had a damn heart attack with the note you guys left!"

"Blame (your name); she's the one that wrote it. Anyway, we're on our way home now. Everything is fine. She and the baby are ok."

"That's a relief to hear, but what the hell happened so suddenly?" He inquires.

"We'll tell you about it when we get home. We're still a little shaken up from the anticipation." Trevor answers.

"Alright, I'll be here waiting," Johnny sighs. 

They end the call and Trevor tosses his cellphone into the cupholder. He looks at me. I look at him and a guilty look crosses my face. "What are you about to tell me?" He groans.

"Can we get Burger Shot on the way home?" I ask timidly.

Trevor laughs. "Your nerves calmed down quick. Of course we can get Burger Shot on the way home. Are you sure you don't want to change at home first?" He looks down at my dried blood covered lap.

"No, we're just going through the drive-through. I can just put my hands over it so we don't get weird looks at the window. See?" I place my hands in my lap. It doesn't cover a majority of the blood. We both laugh. 

Trevor turns in his seat and digs out his denim jacket that was tucked behind his seat. "Just put this over your lap." He starts the car up and heads to Burger Shot.

"Well, you were right about it being a force to be reckoned with. Not only has it been a difficult pregnancy so far, but it just continues to thrive somehow."

"I don't think your body is as ruined as you make it out to be. You're stronger than you think you are, and we also really need to find out the gender so we can stop referring to it as 'it'."

I giggle. "Shit! I suppose we could've asked, but I was so wrapped up in just knowing that it's still alive. Well, I have my next doctor's visit in about a week. We were going to find out then anyway." Trevor pulls into Burger Shot and orders lunch for himself, me, and Johnny even thought it's early morning. When we pull up to the window, Trevor hands me everything the person at the window hands to him. The burgers practically burn my legs through the denim jacket they're so hot. Once back on the road, I look over at Trevor. "Maybe we shouldn't tell Amanda and all of them about this until after the baby is born. I don't want her to nag me about staying in bed and asking me a bunch of questions. I want to stay as worry and stress free as possible from here on out for the baby's sake."

"Fine with me," he says. "She stresses me out too."

-

I've eaten a good amount of my fries and taken a couple bites out of my burger by the time we get home. Trevor takes the second bag from me and we head inside. I plant myself on the couch to keep myself relatively comfortable. I can hear Johnny's boots coming down the wooden stairs. Trevor sits at the dinner table and slides a third burger and box of fries across the way to Johnny. 

"Oh, thanks guys. I was starting to get hungry." He unwraps his burger and takes a bite. With a mouthful, he begins, "So, now that you guys are here you have to tell my what prompted a visit to the hospital." Trevor puts a finger across his top lip as he chews, signaling that he's about to say something. Before he can, I stand up and face Johnny. His gaze falls to my legs and his eyes grow wide. "Nevermind," Johnny says. "I understand. So, what exactly was wrong?"

"Basically, I hemorrhaged. The technician said that it shouldn't affect the pregnancy and I'll be fine as long as I get a lot of bed rest." I inform him.

"She also can't go for a jog and we can't screw," Trevor adds humorously. I roll my eyes.

"Good to know," Johnny answers sarcastically as he takes another bite of his burger. 

"Now that I've inhaled a burger and a ton of fries, I'm going to go take a shower and change. This isn't good for me to stay in and sit around the house in." I tell them as I ball up the burger wrapper and toss it towards the trash can. 

I go upstairs with much anxiety. I should've asked more questions about what is ok. Is going up and down the stairs too much? I go into the bathroom and peel off my bloody clothes and toss them right in the trash. I step into the warm shower and realize I probably should've taken a bath if I'm supposed to be taking thing even easier than I was. A lot of adjustment will have to be made now. 

I stare down at the floor of the shower while the pink water slides towards the drain. I've watched that happen so many times and now for an entirely new reason. I'd take watching blood that I've hemorrhaged out non-painfully and non-harmful to me or the baby than watching blood go down the drain from blood loss after a gunshot wound, washing someone else's blood off me, or having another miscarriage. As scary as it was earlier, this is ok. This is probably the best case scenario. Could it be that my luck is changing?


	93. The Shower

I practically have to waddle up the stairs. My focus is mainly on the glass of water I'm carrying. I watch as it shifts back and forth in the glass as I go up each step. Johnny tried to convince me to let him take it up to Trevor, but I refused. They both have offered to do so many things for me to get me to stay in bed, but it's driving me crazy. I can't lay there all day everyday knowing everyone else is free to roam about.

I walk into the nursery that Trevor is painting a pastel yellow. He hears me approaching and sets the brush down. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and takes the glass from me. "Thank you, cupcake," he says tiredly.

"Do you want me to get Johnny to bring a fan in here? It's hotter than the devil's asshole, Trev." I walk over to the open window and bend over so that my face is level with the open part. "There's absolutely no wind today."

"Nah, it's fine," he waves his hand at me as he takes a sip of water. "After I'm done painting, I'm going to open the vent to see if I can detect the problem."

"Ok, I just don't want you passing out. It's absolutely sweltering in here."

"I can say the same for you. You should be in bed," he gives me a look.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not wasting my days laying in bed all the time."

"You're not wasting your days. It's to keep you and the baby healthy," he says in a calming way. I start to not feel so well and place a hand on my stomach. "You ok? You don't look very good. This is exactly what I was talking about, you know." My eyes widen and I look at Trevor. He moves quickly over to me. "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I smile at him. "I think this is the first time I've ever felt to the baby kick! Feel!" I demand as I grab his hand and place it on my stomach.

His eyes widen too. "Does it hurt?"

I giggle, "After knowing what it feels like to be shot, I'd say this is just mildly uncomfortable." He focuses attentively on the sensation. I can tell this is a big deal for him, feeling evidence of a living being we created. "Mm, it's kicking harder," I groan. "I think it knows who you are and your voice."

"How?" He questions, trying to not get too mushy.

"I don't know," I shrug. "I think it just knows. I've never felt it kick before and I have no other explanation for it kicking harder when you touched me." He doesn't reply and goes back to painting. "You know, Trevor, it's ok to be vulnerable. I know you're having trouble adjusting to this, but you're going to be ok."

"What do you mean?" He plays dumb.

"You know what I mean. I've watched you fight with yourself these past couple of weeks. You're terrified that you don't know how to be a father," I say bluntly.

He stops what he's doing and lets the brush hang at his side as he stares at the wall in contemplation. "Aren't you scared you don't know how to be a mother?"

"Yes," I answer without hesitation, "everyday since I found out I'm pregnant, but I'm more excited than anything."

"You at least had a model of what that should look like. I had _nothing_. I had no ounce of a decent male figure in my life. They all came and went." He mumbles, "In more ways than one."

"You place too much blame on your upbringing like you're not strong enough to overcome it. I knew your mother all too well, unfortunately. You're a vastly different person than she is, and even though I never met your father I'd say the same about him. How do I know this? You stick by the people you care about. Yes, you have a tendency to push away to protect yourself from possibly being hurt, but I can tell you're happy. Let yourself be. You've never treated me the way you've seen men treat your mother. Have a little more faith in yourself that you won't treat our child the way your parents treated you."

"I'm trying my best," he says dejectedly.

"Trevor, look what you're doing. Do you think your parents ever prepared a room for your or Ryan's arrival?"

"No, I know they didn't. Both of our cribs were milk crates that happened to be laying around. The walls were never painted in our room."

I walk over to him and put my hand on his arm and rest my cheek on his back. "You have a much bigger heart and I wish you only knew that."

"Again, I'm trying my best," his voice vibrates in my ear as he talks. The baby moves again. I make a noise of discomfort and Trevor tries to look back at me. "You ok back there?"

"Yes, your child is just being unruly right now. I swear it knows your voice, T."

"The thing is still gestating. It doesn't know anything yet," he says, putting his defensive walls up.

"They're smarter than you think. We're all born with instincts." I give him a soft pat on the back and go to leave him alone to brood. I'm not going to stand here all day trying to convince him.

"Hey, (your name)?" He calls out to me as I'm about to leave the room.

"Yes?" I turn.

"You think he or she will like me? You know, when they're older." He asks timidly.

"You more than me," I giggle.

I hear him exhale. He turns around and throws the brush down onto the paint tray. He rubs his forehead and looks up at me. "Not only am I worried about being a good dad, but I'm worried about what it'll think of us when it grows up and finds out the truth."

"What do you mean?" My eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"What's going to happen when they find out mommy and daddy aren't good people?"

I take a deep breath in and mull it over for a second. Honestly, it's a good question and one I haven't thought of too much. I've been so focused on the present and immediate future. Thinking about having a teenager asking us how we met Uncle Michael or Uncle Johnny or asking who the blond man is in all our older pictures is something I neglected to prepare for. One day they might ask Trevor how he got all the scars on his body and what my scars are because they look different from Trevor's. 

"I think we should be reasonably honest with them, like our parents never were with us. You and I _are_ exceptional people and if we were to keep everything a secret, we'd basically be lying about our entire lives. We'll save certain stories for when they're older, but there's nothing wrong with being honest."

He smiles slightly. "I like that."

Johnny comes running up the steps, "Hey, (your name), Trevor, I think Amanda and Michael are here for the shower."

"I'll be right down," I tell him. "Go clean up, Trev. I'll go entertain." 

Johnny holds out his hand and I take it. Going down the stairs is much more difficult than going up them. When we reach the bottom, Michael, Amanda, Jimmy, and Tracey have all let themselves in. Amanda looks at me like I'm a goddess as I descend the last few steps. All of them have a bunch of wrapped presents in their hands and I already feel guilty.

"Ok, first off, this house is _amazing_ , and second, you look absolutely beautiful!" Amanda oozes happiness. 

"Thank you, times two," I laugh. "You can put your stuff down on the dining table in the dining room over here," I say as I guide them all into a separate room off to the side. This table is much longer and more suitable for holding all the large, oddly shaped presents they brought. 

As soon as Amanda puts some things down, she rushes over to hug me. "God, I know you've been having a much more difficult pregnancy than I did, but you look a thousand times better."

"I know that isn't true. You looked great back then," I tell her, "and you still do!"

"Oh, stop it!" She says, putting a hand to her chest.

"Hi, Mikey," I greet him with a hug.

"Hey, (your name). I hope all this shit fits in the nursery. Amanda went hog-wild at the store," he jokes.

"Oh, it will. The bedrooms in this house are huge." I reassure him.

I turn to Tracey who looks like she's about to start crying. "Hey, Trace," I say and outstretch my arms to hug her.

She practically runs towards me and gives me a warm hug. "I'm like totally excited for you! This is the first time I've seen you since you've like really started showing!"

"It still has bit more to grow, so I'm only going to get bigger," I sigh. "Soon enough here I won't be able to fit through door frames!"

"Oh please! You're thinner than I was when I was pregnant with Tracey," Amanda adds.

"I hate that I've been majorly busy with college. I wish I could've been there when you dropped the news on mom and dad. They were like so surprised they both nearly had a coronary. They couldn't wait to tell me and Jimmy." Says Tracey.

"Well, I'm just happy you could come today." I then turn to Jimmy, "Last, but not least! Come here, Jim!" I motion him in for a hug. 

He awkwardly keeps adjusting his arms. "I don't want to, uh, crush it," he says nervously.

"You won't. Don't worry," I smile and hug him first so he doesn't feel so awkward about it. He hugs back when he realizes it's not that fragile. 

"So, are you going to be doing the gender reveal thing?" Jimmy asks.

"No, unfortunately. We don't know what we're having yet. The sonogram was postponed again," I answer. I can already feel Amanda's wrath.

"How come?!" She whines.

"Um," I try to think of a believable excuse rather than telling her that my doctor wants me to get bedrest before our next appointment because of a hemorrhage. "At the last visit, she still wasn't quite comfortable with me doing one. I've been feeling much better, but I still wasn't up to par during the last appointment. I'm sure it'll get done at the next one though."

"It better," Amanda urges. "I'm about to go insane I want to know so bad!"

"She's not kidding," Michael rolls his eyes. Trevor comes down the stairs. "Hey there, daddy-o," Michael greets him playfully and they give each other a quick hug.

"Just because I'm having a kid doesn't mean I'm going to parent you too," Trevor says jokingly to Michael.

"I should've told you that when Amanda got pregnant," Michael zings back.

"You boys can go chill out in the big living room, if you want," I suggest. "Us girls can hang out in the smaller one since there'll be less of us."

"Sure thing," Trevor makes his way to me and kisses me on the top of my head. "Just holler if you need anything, and I mean it. Don't get up. Holler." He shoots me the same concerned look he's been giving me since the hospital visit.

"Ok, T," I pat his chest, trying to give him some reassurance that I'll actually listen to him. He wraps an arm around Jimmy and walks off towards the main living room. Michael and Johnny follow them. "Well, let's go get settled in, girls," I say to Amanda and Tracey as I lead them to the smaller living room on the other side of the hall behind the dining room.

"Trevor seems to be a big help during all of this, and Johnny too" Amanda says surprised.

"Oh, they definitely have been. I got very lucky," I smile.

"I'll say," Amanda replies sarcastically. "Michael tried his best, but it was never quite enough. For instance, he would carry things up and down the stairs, but he never helped _me_ up and down the stairs. I tried explaining to him that carrying an extra thirty or so pounds puts a lot more stress on your knees and sometimes it'd be nice to get a little help down them. He didn't bother offering to make dinner more or getting take-out until I was pregnant with Jimmy."

"I don't think you're giving daddy enough credit," Tracey says. "I watched some of those videos you guys shot; he was always there like right by your side in every video."

"He was definitely up my ass all the time. Still is!" Amanda laughs. "He was always a very present father, but there's something in him that just said I was incapable of doing anything because I couldn't bend down like I could when I wasn't pregnant."

"Oh my god! Yes! Trevor has been the same way! He's never comfortable when I'm standing. He always wants me either sitting or laying down. He's pretty insistent that he gets me food when I'm hungry and all that though." I tell them.

"I'm like so lost here," Tracey adds. "I've never been pregnant."

"Sorry, Trace," I say to her.

"No, it's ok. I was wondering if you had any names picked out though."

"Not really. I mean, we don't even know if it's a boy or girl yet. We'll know when it comes to us," I say happily. 

I hear a knock at the door and excuse myself. I straighten my top and push some of my hair behind my ear. I open the door and Ron and Chef stand before me. They're finding out why they're here only now. Neither one of them want to say anything for fear of being wrong, but they're both grinning. Ron looks so happy that he can't contain himself.

"Surprise," I laugh and put my hands around my stomach.

"Congratulations!" Ron says to me. "I never thought this would happen in my lifetime, or anytime lifetime really, but I'm glad it did. I have always secretly wanted this for you and Trevor. Do you know the sex yet?"

"No, that's the big question of the evening. I find out at the next doctor's appointment. All the boys are through there in the main living room, but you can meander wherever you want," I inform them.

"I wish you would've told us," Chef says guiltily, "we would've picked a present up for you guys."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I think Amanda has everyone covered," I tell him and point to the table in the other room. He peers past me and his eyes widen at all the gifts lining the table.

"Still," he says, "it's the thought that counts. I'm going to go congratulate Trevor."

"Ok, but I was wondering if I could put you on the barbecue later? I've been craving your barbecue pork." I try to act desperate because I really am. I want that damn pork!

He laughs, "Of course."

There's another knock at he door. I hear a lot of talking, so it must be a few other members of the crew. I swing the door open and Floyd, Wade, Lester, and Franklin are all on the other side of it. Franklin and Lester are holding more wrapped boxes, but Floyd and Wade were kept in the dark, just like Ron and Chef. Floyd has a look of pleasant surprise on his face and Wade eyes me suspiciously. I hug all four of them and take the gifts into the dining room quickly.

"Thank you guys for coming. I know this whole thing isn't really your forte, but it does mean a lot," I say mostly to Lester and Franklin.

"Are you kidding?" Lester pipes up. "You're practically family. I wouldn't miss this."

"Yeah," Franklin adds, "you gotta be there for your homies."

"Well, thanks again, guys. You can probably hear all the boys back there. Feel free to go hang out wherever," I tell them all. Lester and Franklin walk to the living room, but Floyd and Wade stay to talk more with me.

"Why didn't you tell us?! We would have all gotten together to plan you a surprise party," Floyd says. Wade looks at him with confusion and then at me.

"Fer what?" Wade asks ignorantly. He leans over towards me and puts a hand up to his mouth and whispers, "You sure gained a lot of weight, (your name)."

Floyd eyes his cousin and gives him a hard nudge. "(Your name) is pregnant, Wade," Floyd explains.

"Ohhhh. That explains a lot," he says as he glances down at my stomach. "Sorry," he says genuinely.

"It's ok," I giggle. "One of the side affects is gaining weight," I joke.

"Before he says anything else embarrassing, I'm going to find a place for him to sit," Floyd jeers.

"Alright, I'll be over there if you need anything," I tell them and point in the direction of the smaller living room. I walk back in there to Amanda and Tracey and plop down on the sectional tiredly. I kick off my shoes from my aching feet and put them up on the coffee table. "Only now am I realizing what a sausage fest it is here," I roll my eyes. "Sorry I don't know more cool chicks to hang out with."

They both laugh. "Please," Amanda rolls her eyes, "Tracey and I both love hanging out with you. You have enough personality for a whole room of friends."

"Aw, thank you." I smile, but before I know it a tear rolls down my cheek. Goddamn hormones. "I really wish you two could've met my friend Ashley. She was a lot like me."

Amanda looks at me sadly. "That's the one that Trevor had a hand in the death?" She asks.

"Not really," I wipe the tear away. "I thought Trevor killed Johnny, but it turned out he faked his death just like Michael. Ashley died as a result of thinking Johnny was dead. It's really no one's fault but her own, but if she knew Johnny was out there it never would've happened." The room goes silent and Amanda reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it. 

"I bet she is here," Amanda tries to comfort me. "I've heard that your loved ones never really leave you when they pass.

Tracey scoots closer to me and rests her head on my shoulder. "Yeah, I'm sure she's here for you," she adds.

Just then, a cabinet flies open on a small dresser in the room that I've been using for extra storage. All three of us jump and scream. We hear multiple footsteps come running towards the room. Trevor, Michael, and Johnny appear in the doorway. They all look panicked, especially Trevor. 

"What's going on?!" Trevor asks frantically.

"Nothing, Trev, we're fine," I say, putting a hand on my chest and feeling my heart race.

"You're going to give me a fucking heart attack!" He yells. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Yes!" I yell back at him.

"What about you two? We heard more than one scream," Michael says to his wife and daughter.

"We're fine, daddy," Tracey says.

"Yes, we're completely fine," Amanda adds.

They all look at his with concern. "None of you look fine," Johnny says in disbelief. "You three look like you've just seen a ghost."

Amanda, Tracey, and I all look at each other and then back at the guys. "Really, we're fine," I force a smile.

"One more instance like that," Trevor says too calm, "and you're parking it next to me. My stomach nearly fell out of my ass!" The three men walk back out of the room. 

I turn to Amanda and Tracey. "When Ashley died, I was the only person listed on her Will. I got everything. That dresser came from her trailer," I inform them. They both look at me in terror.


	94. Flashback #32

"What the fuck, Trevor?! He was a good person and he didn't do _anything_ to you! Oh man, Johnny is going to be so fucking pissed!" I pace nervously.

"We don't have time to panic, sweet cheeks. He wasn't supposed to be here. Now help me with the body," he says casually.

"Fuck it," I shake any form of logic off that I still have and grab the man's arms. 

As we drag him out of the back door next to the pool table at the Yellow Jack Inn, I give a last look to the smears of blood he left behind. This was never supposed to happen. I hadn't exactly talked to this man before, but I know he's a friend of Johnny's and he has a lot of respect for him. I even remember Johnny telling me he has family out here somewhere: a cousin who opened this place with him. They all moved out here to start fresh. 

I debate with myself on whether I should tell Trevor this. There are two outcomes of giving him that information. The first outcome is that nothing happens and we all go about our own business. The second outcome is that Trevor will hunt the cousin down and kill him to tie up loose ends. I don't want anymore needless killing, but if the cousin raises suspicion that could be bad news for us. We're already on thin ice with Johnny's Lost, the O'Neils, and the Aztecas. 

Trevor and I hoist the foreign man's body into the back of the truck. I can't stop looking at his face. Even now he looks secretive and disdainful to the world. Trevor urges me to get in the truck quickly. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry," I whisper to the man. It's obvious it's too late, but I was always so curious about him and his life. It made sense for him to end up in Liberty City, but how did he decide on ending up in Blaine County?

I get in the truck with Trevor and he drives like a bat out of hell down the road. We notice a large bonfire in the middle of an open field as we start reaching the more deserted part of town. A few people are gathered around the fire wearing black and white face paint in different designs. I get a bad feeling in my stomach as Trevor pulls over. There's no telling what he's thinking. I look over and he has a vengeful look in his eyes.

As we make our way to the circle of people, Trevor says angrily, "What the hell is this?! A clown circlejerk?!"

"No, silly," a man with a thick southern accent says. "We're on our way to 'the gathering'." 

"What?" Trevor says in a way to shame them all for gathering in a large group and wearing face paint.

I notice the man is wearing a Fatal Incursion jersey. "It's a metalhead thing, Trevor," I tell him. "I've heard about it."

"This is lunacy," Trevor rolls his eyes.

"Not yet man, we haven't even started the lunacy yet," another guy holds up a bag of something. I can't make out what it is in the darkness.

Trevor marches over to him and grabs the bag. He throws it to the ground and stomps on it. "Weed is for pussies who live in their parent's basement. If you're looking for a real high, try meth."

I roll my eyes at him. I'll give it to him that he's managed to start a successful business dealing meth, but what else has it gotten him? We live in a shitty trailer in the middle of Sandy-motherfucking-Shores. When he's having a particularly rough week, he ends up smoking more than he deals. That just causes him to go on these rampages and I have to tag along to make sure he doesn't get himself killed. At this rate, Ron and I are both on the verge of a nervous breakdown. 

"Well, do you no where we can get some?" The guy that had the weed asks.

"Boy do I!" Trevor says excitedly. "Hop in the truck and I'll take you where there's more meth than you can smoke in a year."

The guy with the weed and a girl that was with him start rolling Trevor to the truck. The one with the southern accent pipes up, "Hey, guys, I don't know about this."

"You stay," Trevor tells him. "I'll be back with your friends later."

"Trevor," I say sternly, "don't leave him out here by himself."

"Then you stay with him," he says plainly. 

"You're fine with me staying out here in the middle of nowhere, at night, with a guy we just met?" I ask taken aback.

"No, of course not. I'll worry about you every second, but I can't make you do anything you don't want to be a part of," he says.

"You know what," I start, "go ahead. Me and, uh, what's your name?"

"Wade."

"Wade and I here are going to be just fine," I say to Trevor with an attitude.

"Alright, suit yourself." Trevor gives me a peck on the cheek. "Take care of yourself." He and the other two make their way to the truck. The guy gets in the passenger seat and I watch as the girl notices the dead body and flinches. Trevor tells her something, probably that he's just knocked out, and she proceeds to get in the back.

I turn to Wade. "My boyfriend is high as a kite right now and he probably won't be back for a while. He has a tendency to lose track of time when he has smoked up. I know we just met, but I'm going to head back home and you're welcome to come with me. You seem smarter than your friends."

"No one's ever said that before. Usually I'm the dumb one." He says.

"They're dumb if they just got in the truck with a total stranger to go score drugs. You're the only one not wanting to take part in that. To that, I'd say you're smarter. You also seem kinder. Come on. If we're going to make it back before morning, we need to start walking now."

-

I check my phone as Wade and I walk up the front steps of the trailer. He's finishing up a story about some family reunion taking a funny turn. I'm so tired that I missed about half of it already. As we step inside, Ron is sitting on the couch watching Weazel News. He flips the tv off and stands to greet us. 

"Ron, this is Wade. Wade, this is Ron," I introduce them both. "He's a friend of mine and Trevor's," I tell Wade. 

"Um, hi," Ron anxiously greets Wade. "Do you know where Trevor is, (your name)?"

"No, he drove off with Wade's friends. I have no idea where he is or if he's coming back," I say with exhaustion clear on my face and in my body language.

"What happened? You look rugged," Ron says as he puts a hand over his mouth.

"He told Wade's friends he could sell them meth, but he told Wade to stay. I tried to appeal to Trevor to have a heart and not leave Wade out there, so his idea was for me to stay too. I had a choice, but I'm too tired to argue with stoned Trevor. If you wouldn't mind, could you get Wade situated? I have a feeling he's going to be staying with us and I need to go lay down." I walk into the bedroom before Ron can answer. I can hear Ron taking him outside and possibly to his own trailer next door so I can get some peace and quiet. 

As I fall onto the bed, I can har a car door closing nearby. It has to be him. Sun from the window beams in onto my face, but I'm too tired to move out of the line of the window. About a minute later, I hear the door to the trailer open and immediately slam shut. Keys are tossed onto the counter in the kitchen and Trevor lumbers into the room. He flops down on the bed beside me, clearly exhausted too. The smell of blood and soil rolls off him.

"I'm sorry," he says like he knows he fucked up big time.

"No you're not," I say blankly, "you don't even remember what happened."

"That doesn't mean that I can't gather up the clues and know I screwed up," he says just above a whisper.

"What were the clues this time?"

"I woke up in the quarry next to a large plot of dirt that had been dug up and a bloody shovel."

I roll over so that my back is facing him. He props himself up on his elbows and looks over at me. I really don't have it in me to argue and I honestly don't have it in me to have a light conversation about it. I don't have to tell him I'm upset and that he's jeopardizing everything for us. He already knows. He's far from stupid, but he's making stupid decisions. I feel his warm hand on my arm. 

The bed shifts as he moves closer to me and tries to get a look at my face. He just wants to know that I'm not crying. He'll feel relatively fine as long as I'm not crying. If only I could. I'd cry right now if I had the energy just to spite him. He rolls back over and just lays there. This isn't the life I had imagined for us. _Duh._ Sometimes, I wish he'd do something unforgivable to me. It'd make it easier to leave if I didn't love him.

I push that thought down and tears do come to my eyes after all. How could I think that? I love Trevor more than life itself, but he makes that life very difficult. Just like he can make loving him difficult. None of the other women I knew have had to put up with as much as in their relationships as I have had to with Trevor. It's not just a drug addiction, it's the constant need to take out his exceptional anger issues. It's not just that we're struggling to make ends meet, but traumatic events are added to the mix to spice it up.

I sit up quickly and swing my leg over so that I'm now straddling him. He looks a little startled. I lean over so that my nose is millimeters from his. I look deep in his eyes and his expression softens as he becomes aware of the tears welling up in my eyes. I kiss him, which leaves him looking confused. 

"I love you," I say softly to him, "but I really can't keep doing this. I'm going to lose my mind or get seriously hurt or something if you keep doing this. I'm going to take over the business for a bit."

He wraps his arms around me and sits up abruptly. "Why?!"

"You left me alone in the middle of nowhere last night with someone we just met. This is the only way I feel that you can kick this habit." I painfully inform him.

"Why would I do such a thing?!"

"The decisions you make aren't going to make sense when you're high. All I know is that we're lucky nothing happened to either of us, but I've hit my limit. We either try this or..." I trail off, not really wanting to give him an ultimatum.

"You don't have to say it," he says dejectedly. "I've been extremely stressed out and I clearly can't juggle a business right now too. I think it's a good decision. You already know how things work and you have Ron and Chef if you need anything."

"And Wade." I mention.

"Who?"

"The people you killed last night, they were his friends. He's the one you left me alone with. He's stuck here now because of you. We might as well help him out."

"Ok," he sighs, "and we have Wade too. I'll just sort myself out and then come back strong."

"I'm not letting you come back until I feel you're truly ready, so I expect you to really focus on getting better." I say sternly. "Now, you should really take a shower. You smell awful."

He giggles. "Ok, fine."


	95. Chapter 95

I sit on the bed in the doctor's office, anxiously rubbing my cold hands. I watch as Trevor rifles through the drawers and cabinets. That only makes me more anxious that the doctor or technician is going to come in and chew him out. His eyes shift to the sharps box and that's where I draw the line. He lifts the lid and peeks in.

"Trevor, what are you doing?" I say slightly annoyed.

"Just curious," he says innocently.

"Sit down, please. I can tell you're anxious, and it's making me even more anxious."

He walks over to the little bench against the wall and sits down. He looks at the floor and I can tell he's deep in thought. We're both painfully nervous and kind of bored. My doctor enters the room and Trevor and I straighten our posture. She gives us a warm smile. She always looks so extremely happy. It makes me curious about her life and what contributed to this personality. Whatever it was, I think all of humanity could use some.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Philips!" She says enthusiastically. "I've been thinking about you a lot since our last visit. I'm glad you're visiting today because I'm probably just as anxious to check up on everything as you both are. Now, how have you been feeling?" She asks me.

"I've been feeling fine. That's been really nice for once. Oh! I felt the baby kick for the first time a couple weeks ago!" 

"That's magical. Isn't it?" She smiles.

"It was definitely something. I was so glad to finally feel it as reassurance that it's doing its thing in there, but after a few minutes I was like, 'Ok, thanks, you can stop now'." The doctor and I laugh. Trevor purses his lips to feign mild amusement. 

I want to make him laugh so bad. Hell, I just want him to smile. He's scared out of his mind and I know there's no talking him down. Not this time. The consequences are bigger this time and honestly I can't blame him. I'm scared too, but at least I'm not afraid of making mistakes with this. I'm aware that I can't be perfect when it comes to being a mother, but Trevor is assigning it too much power. I know he's probably going to get a little too angry at the kid for doing something minor or say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I will too, and that's ok. Mistakes are ok.

We had a conversation one night after he basically just sat in front of the tv all day. He hadn't really spoken to me or Johnny the entire day. He confessed to me that the doctor's appointment in which we're finding out the sex of the baby is really eating at him. He told me that he'd be happy either way, but for his sake he doesn't think he can handle a son. Naturally, I tried to reassure him, but it was no use. Trevor had already convinced himself that he can't teach a boy how to be a man and all the things in life that might happen during the male experience. 

"How about you, Mr.Philips?" I love that the doctor makes Trevor a big part of this too. 

"Huh?" He looks up, confused.

"How have you been feeling?" She restates.

"Fine," he grumbles.

"He's very nervous," I tell her.

"They usually are," she sighs. "Well, without further ado, let's figure out what this little angel is. I know you two have been waiting a little longer than normal." She opens the door and ushers Trevor and I down the hall.

We enter a room much like the one at the hospital, with a sonogram machine and everything. She has me sit on the bed and tells me that the technician will be with us shortly. Trevor goes back to pacing around the room. I want to say something encouraging and I also want to yell at him to get his shit together and stop acting like a child because I'm only supposed to have one of those right now. I take a deep breath in, and slowly let it out. My doctor told me to do that when I feel stressed out. Stress isn't good for the baby, especially after all the stuff I've been through with this pregnancy. 

A short woman enters the room rather quickly and introduces herself. This is the woman that's going to tell us whether we're going to have a son or daughter. This moment is happening too quickly and I want it to slow down. Trevor comes to stand beside me as he sees me nervously shifting. The woman sits down on the rolling stool in front of the machine and I feel my heart pounding. 

Trevor takes my hand and squeezes it as the woman puts the jelly on my stomach. He watches in fascination and I feel like I'm about to have a panic attack. However, the warmth of Trevor's rough hand is somewhat soothing to me. I'm thankful that he's here in this moment of pure panic with me. Inside, he's most likely feeling the exact same way. I squeeze his hand back, trying to expel my own tension as she watches the monitor. Any second we'll have an answer.

The technician turns the machine off and throws her gloves away. "Well, everything looks perfectly normal and healthy. Ten fingers and toes. Good heartbeat. Did you two want to know the sex?" 

I take a deep breath in as I feel butterflies flying around my stomach. "Yes."

"Congratulations," she starts, "you're going to have a bouncing baby boy." 

I can feel a smile already stretching across my face. I look up at Trevor who has gone pale. My smile fades quickly. "Trevor?" I say with concern. He closes his eyes slowly and puts his hand over his eyes. "Are you ok, sweetie?" I ask him. 

"Yeah, I'm f-" he begins to say weakly and then loses his balance. He's still holding my hand as he catches himself before he falls to the floor. 

"Whoa, Trev! You're not ok," I tell him. 

The technician helps him over to the end of the bed and I scoot over to sit next to him. I watch his face closely. He still looks pale and the technician hands him a small paper cup of water. I touch the back of my hand to his forehead and then his cheek. He's very clammy. The technician watches us nervously and I ask if we can have a moment alone. She reluctantly leaves the room.

I wrap my arm around his and rub his back with the other. I rest my head on his shoulder and just let him have this moment. He forces himself to take small sips of the water and he moves his arm so that his hand is resting on my knee. I look at him again and some of his color has returned. 

"I'm really, really happy," he says tiredly. My smile returns. "There's a lot of responsibility on my part as the father of a boy, but I'll find my place. Once we're in the swing of it, it'll be ok." He takes his arm and puts it around me, lightly pulling me into him.

"I think you're going to be a wonderful father. I will say that the idea of raising a son with your genetics is kind of terrifying, but I accept the challenge." I giggle. "I do know that he's going to grow into a good person."

"I sure hope you're right," he says hopefully.

"Shit!" I exclaim.

"What?!" Trevor jumps.

"How have I forgotten to tell my father?!" 

"Oh, no," Trevor laughs.

"I'm the worst daughter ever! The one thing he wants in life is to be a grandfather and here I am about to have the thing and we haven't told him!" 

"To be fair, it's been a busy past few months. We've been so focused on making sure you're feeling better." Trevor tries to comfort me.

"Trevor, I think we should convince him to move to the city. He's all alone in North Yankton. I'm surprised he could make it for the wedding; it's such a long trip. Plus, I want him to be more of a part of our lives and I definitely want him to be a part of our son's life. He's going to be the only grandparent our child has."

"I think that's a good idea," he smiles at me.


	96. Chapter 96

"Hello?" The gentle, familiar voice of my past answers the phone.

"Hi, dad," I sigh. 

He picks up on the nervousness in my voice. "Oh, hi, (your name)! Is everything alright, dear?"

"Yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to talk to you about something and I don't know how you're going to respond to it. I know we haven't exactly kept in good contact since I've come back into your life, but I really want to change that."

"I would like that as well, but you should know you can always talk to me about anything. I'm your father, that's part of our job." He laughs a little.

"Well, you've never been one for cities. You _or_ mom." I remind him.

"I wouldn't say that. I lived in Liberty City for a short time when I was a boy and I have nothing but fond memories. Your mother was the one that wanted to move to a small, quiet town, preferably in the northwest, to start a family. Don't get me wrong, I love North Yankton, but it's stuck in a perpetual blizzard." He sighs.

"Yes, well, how would you feel about possibly moving into a city?" I grit my teeth in anticipation for his answer.

"I'm assuming you mean Los Santos since that's where you and Trevor are, am I correct?" 

"Um, yes," I hesitate.

He sighs. "Your mother is here."

"Dad, I know you've always felt the need to stay by mom, but what else is there in North Yankton besides her?"

"You don't have to pose rhetorical questions to me; I know what you're trying to say and I agree with you whole-heartedly. However, this is where everything began for me."

"I know and I understand completely, but you have to meet me halfway. More ended in North Yankton for me than they began. The only good thing that happened to me in North Yankton is Trevor. I can't move back there and I can't go back to Blaine County. I'd go insane in either place if I had to go back. Look, I'm not making you move if you really don't want to, but there's an older community on the western side of town. There's a golf course not too far away." I trail off. I sound like I'm trying to sell him on a retirement community or a nursing home.

"Why this all of a sudden?" He asks.

"I don't want to lose contact with you all over again. I want you in my life and I want to see you as often as I see Michael and Amanda. I want to be able to have Sunday brunch or do things around town with you. There's so much to see here and there's something for everyone."

"You drive a hard bargain," I hear him exhale. "I suppose it makes more sense to be closer to you and I really would love to see you more too. E-mail me some links of houses you would suggest. I'll look them over and consider them."

"I can do that. Also, you should probably schedule a visit soon. There's kind of a surprise."

"Oh boy," he laughs sarcastically. "I can't wait to see what my mischievous daughter concocted. I was actually going to give you a call and see when you and Trevor are free for a visit." He says.

"We're good whenever. Our home is always open to you."

"Would it be alright if I flew in next weekend?"

"Of course," I tell him. "It'll be a bit of a full house though. A friend of mine from Blaine County moved in with us and we're doing, uh, some renovations on another room."

"Well, I'll see you then. I hope we can get together with Michael for lunch while I'm there. I enjoyed him at the wedding." He says happily.

I giggle, "I'm sure we can arrange lunch with Michael."

"Sounds great. I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too, dad. Talk to you soon."

"Alright. Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye, dad." I say with slight melancholy in my voice.

I place my cellphone down on the dinner table in front of me. The call could've gone better, but it also could've gone much worse. He seemed almost, well, just different somehow. Trevor strides into the kitchen and pulls a glass down from the cupboard. He fills the glass with water from the tap and I notice he's dripping sweat. He chugs the water and just about slams the glass down with a satisfied grunt.

"Fixed the air conditioning in the nursery," he pants.

"Oh, good!" I reply excitedly, but he can tell something else is on my mind.

"Is something bothering you?"

"No, I just got off the phone with my dad. I suggested to him that maybe he should move closer to the city and he sounds really unsure. He doesn't want to leave because mom is there and it's where he settled down and started a family." I inform my husband.

"Typical," he scoffs. "He'll come around though. You're really all he has left to care about."

"Well that's not depressing at all," I say sarcastically. "You know, I had a thought about if he does move here."

"And that was...?" 

"We're probably going to have to come clean to him."

"Wait," Trevor shakes his head and sits down next to me at the table, "why would we do that?"

"We'd have to make everyone we know lie to him. We'd have to make up a whole backstory for Johnny and we'd have to remember every lie we tell. I'd rather fess up now than for our son to mention at some point that Michael's last name is actually Townley and dad be confused and confront us about it later. If he does move here, T, we'd be starting over with him. I don't want to continue to lie to him if I do get a second chance to be closer to him."

Trevor sits there silently and just looks at me. "I can tell you've really been thinking about that."

"Ever since we stood on his doorstep for the first time in years. I've felt horrible about every lie we've told and I know he knows something else happened in North Yankton. He could tell by the way you still lose it when you think of it."

"You're right," he sighs, and that's exactly why I'm going to listen to you on this. No more lies from here on out with anyone."

"Well, like I said before, let's just be _reasonably_ honest. We can withhold certain details. For instance, let's not mention specifics about the business. I don't want my father or our child knowing you cook meth."

"Fair enough," he laughs. He leans over and kisses me on the cheek. He looks happier than he has in weeks.

Johnny walks in the front door and makes a beeline for the fridge. He grabs a chocolate pudding cup and rips the lid off quickly. "Hey, you better get me more if you're going to continue to eat all my pudding cups," I jokingly yell at him.

"I can get to the store in under five minutes with the Hexer. I can get you pudding cups very quickly." He says as he takes a spoon out of the drawer and plunges it into the pudding. He takes a seat across from me and next to Trevor at the table. "So, what have you two been up to?"

"You know I'm stuck here all day every day," I joke.

"I finally fixed the AC in the nursery. That's about it," Trevor adds. "What about you? What trouble have you been getting into?"

"None, lately, unfortunately. I made a drug drop for the business yesterday with a weird guy. For a second I thought he was a narc, so I kinda kept my cards close to my chest." Johnny tells us.

"What do you mean he was 'weird'? What did he do?" I ask curiously.

"He just kept telling me to 'show it to him' and it's like he'd forget that he was talking to me every minute or so."

"It just sounds like he was either having a bad trip or he's a reoccurring customer. Maybe both." Trevor suggests.

"I wouldn't think too much of it, Johnny. By the way, my dad is coming to stay with us next weekend."

"Mm," Johnny mumbles as he eats another spoonful of pudding. "I'd love to meet him. I'd love to know what kind of parent leads to creating a personality like yours."

"My mother is probably more telltale of my personality," I reply sarcastically. "She passed away though."

"I'd say you're very much like your dad," Trevor says. "He even says so."

"How so?" Johnny asks Trevor.

"She had her foot halfway out the door for a while and when she finally decided to leave, he told her to do it and not feel bad for it. He told her they were cut from the same cloth and he wanted her to live her life freer than he did, as I'm helping her pack her things in the truck." Trevor explains.

"That's badass to tell your parents straight to their faces that you're leaving." Johnny says.

"I had to," I speak up. "I was not a cookie-cutter person like my mom and I could never be that way. Both of my parents had influence in town politics and I didn't feel that I could stay their for my own sanity, but also to keep their reputation intact. My parents had their own demons that affected me working on my own. I knew I was starting to really fall for Trevor and I would do anything to be by his side. So, the only option for me was to leave. I don't regret it at all, but it certainly caused more problems. For instance, I never got the chance to reconcile with my mother. I'll always have feeling about that, but my dad told me she had no hard feelings in the end and that helped me heal."

"Ash had a similar story," Johnny mentions quietly and sadly. It's the first time in a while he's talked about her.

"She told me," I say softly, "and I told her my story too. I think that's one of the many things we bonded over. No one else really understood what it was like being the daughter of parents that don't make an effort to understand you or even acknowledge your existence within the household. We both grew up very lonely and misunderstood by everyone. We were lucky though. I had Trevor and he was exactly the person I needed in that time, and I believe the same for you and Ash." I try to cheer Johnny up.

He soaks in my words. I know he blames himself and he just won't admit that out loud. He rather ignore and internalize the pain. Someone's phone begins to ring, ruining the moment in which I'm trying to reach Johnny. Trevor reaches into his pocket and takes a call. It immediately becomes clear he's talking to Franklin.

"I will leave you on the note that _I_ was the lucky one in finding you. You were always who I needed," Trevor says as he kisses me on the cheek. "I've gotta go in though. Small business issue," he says and leaves Johnny and I at the table. 

I watch Johnny. He looks down, almost like he's ashamed. It gives me a bad feeling in my stomach. Johnny is the last person who should be ashamed. He's a better person than me, Trevor, Michael, Ashley, and the list goes on. I reach across the tables and put my hand on his arm. He looks up at me and sees my sympathetic look. "Johnny, I think it's time to talk."

"I know," he sighs. "I've just been telling myself that it's over and done with since she's gone, so what is there to say. I know now it's a lot more complicated than that, but you know."

"Well, that and it's just painful at the root of it. I've learned that it's harder to move on and process something when you don't have closure. There's not really an opportunity for you to get closure with this. It's a lot of extra work on your part to make sense of it all, but I want you to know you can always talk to me. She was one of my best friends too and I miss her every single day. I wish she could be here to see the baby. She'd be so good with him."

Johnny smiles. "Yeah, she would've. She loved kids and always wanted one."

"Really?" I ask curiously.

"Yeah, but I was the President of The Lost. I didn't feel comfortable with it. I also shared Trevor's current sentiment at the time about just being scared out of my mind about being a dad. I'm not going to lie, I was also a little unsure of her ability to stay clean long enough for the baby to be healthy. A lot of factors went into my decision not to have a kid with her." He admits.

"That makes sense and it's perfectly understandable. I just want you to know that you aren't responsible for her behavior and actions."

"I know that. She was an adult and capable of making her own decisions. You can't deny that I was responsible for her death though. I know she'd still be here if I had told her I was alive. There's no two ways about it, and I've learned to cope with that." He says.

"Yes," I sigh, "but you have to understand that she could've coped with it differently."

"Of course," he says matter-of-factly. "The hardest thing about this is just the fact that she isn't here anymore. I can _never_ have a conversation with the love of my life _ever_ again. I can never tell her that I love her." 

I empathize his sadness. I have no idea what it feels like to lose my other half, and I hope I never have to live through that, but I definitely know how loss feels. I've been through true loss many times before, and even grief that has been caused by the faked deaths of two of my friends. I'm no stranger to thinking how I'll never be able to see someone or talk to them ever again. But I can't imagine losing someone close to me like Trevor. 

"You're probably going to roll your eyes at me when I say this, but I do think she's around here, Johnny." I say hopefully.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you remember when you guys heard me, Amanda, and Tracey scream on the day of the shower?" 

"Yeah, what about it?"

"You made a comment about how we looked like we just saw a ghost," I remind him. "Well, I just happened to bring Ashley up and Amanda and Tracey told _me_ they've heard that your loved ones are always with you and that she's probably here. As soon as they said that, the cabinet door on that dresser of hers in the living room flew open. There was no way it was the wind or anything. You know it clasps shut and it flew back so hard I thought it was going to break."

He smiles. "That sounds like something she'd do."

"It does, doesn't it?" I laugh.


	97. Flashback #33

I push back the doors at the liquor store and head upstairs. Chef already has his apron and gloves on, preparing to cook the next batch. I can hear Ron nervously rambling on, probably to Wade. I peel my moto-jacket off and toss it into an armchair in the corner that's falling apart. It's essential to wear when riding around on the motorbike, but during the hot Blaine County summer any article of clothing clings to the sweat on your skin.

Chef notices me as I approach the table he's working at and gives me a nod, "Hey, (your name). Where's the boss-man?"

"I'm the boss-man for the time being. Trevor and I agreed he needs to take a little bit of a break." I inform him.

"Is he ok?"

"Oh, yeah. He's fine. He's just not making very smart decisions right now and we decided this is the best course of action to correct his thinking. Don't worry though. He'll be back once he can come to work here and not sample the product." I tell him, slightly annoyed that I even have to do this. Chef just nods his head, not wanting to say he completely agrees with this decision for me to take Trevor's place in the business for the time being.

I walk into the adjoining room where Ron is frantically pacing and spouting things off to Wade, who has only been with us for about a week or two. I stand in the doorway, trying to get a feel for what it exactly is that has Ron all fired up. He tells Wade that if he continues to do this then Trevor will flip out, maybe even kill him. He says that Trevor isn't against doing anything to get a point across and that he'll be here any minute. Wade looks over at me in the doorway and Ron grows uncomfortable at the thought of whatever it is he's looking at. Slowly, he turns around and lays his eyes on me. 

He takes a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you."

"I don't know if you should be saying 'it's just me'. Trevor's taking some time off for a while and I'm taking his place." I inform them both.

Ron grows nervous again. "Oh, uh, really? I h-hope he's ok."

"He's fine," I assure them, "but I can't promise the same for you two if you don't tell me what that conversation was all about."

"Well," Ron anxiously begins, "Wade here thinks his job is to sit around and smoke the meth that Chef makes. I've been trying to tell him that he's supposed to be 'the mule'."

I slowly walk over to Wade, who is sitting in an old rickety, wooden chair. He swallows hard as I slightly kneel in front of him so that our eyes are more level. "Wade, take a guess where Trevor is."

"Uh, at the trailer?" He guesses.

"Bingo," I whisper ominously. "Can you guess why he's there instead of here at _his_ business?"

"He overslept?"

"Try again."

"He, um, is sick?" Wade guesses innocently.

"In a way, yes, but not quite. You're getting warmer though. I'll give you a hint: you and Trevor have done very similar things."

"Did he sit around here and smoke up too?" He guesses.

"Bingo," I whisper more quietly than before. I quickly stand up and push the chair back that Wade is sitting in. He yells out in fear and I put my foot on the stretcher of the chair to balance it out so that only the two back legs of the chair are touching the floor. The chair creaks as Wade shifts nervously. "If you so much as look at any of the stuff out there with an ounce of desire, I will personally disembowel you and make a kickass casserole with your entrails." I push down on the stretcher with my foot so that all four legs of the chair are on the floor.

Both Ron and Wade look at me with terror in their eyes and then at each other. No one has seen this side of me except for Trevor, and Michael and Brad a handful of times. Trevor used to joke with them that I'm rational for the most part, but if you really piss me off I can make you regret ever being born. I don't like to be that way as much as Trevor does, but sometimes it's necessary. For instance, my boyfriend and a newly found friend are smoking all the product we're supposed to be dealing so that we can make a living and get the fuck out of Sandy Shores!

"I don't think he meant anything by it, (your name)," Ron defends Wade. "He's an addict. He just does what his addiction tells him. Plus," he whispers only to me, "you know he's simple."

"Are you making excuses for him?" I ask authoritatively.

"No, no! Not at all! I'm just saying that maybe the whole entrails casserole thing was a bit much."

"Ok, then if I find out he's smoked anymore meth you'll both be held responsible, that way he doesn't get all the blame as you suggest." I turn so that I can look at both Rona and Wade. "And don't either of you think I won't do it. I've done _and_ eaten worse." I walk back into the main room where Chef is working hard on the next batch. "Got any weapon drops that need to be made?" I ask him.

"Yeah, actually. We picked up a package last week and none of the guys got around to delivering them to the individual clients. It's over there in the cabinet. Each drop should already be sorted and labelled for delivery."

"Perfect," I say. "Hey, Chef, you'll let me know if any of my idiots here taste test the stuff you're making, right?" 

"Yeah, of course. I've told them not to, but you know my word isn't worth much here."

"That's not true," I tell him. "You're about the only one I trust to keep your head on straight."

He gives me a thankful nod as I dig in the cupboard. I pull out an overstuffed messenger bag and unzip it. Various guns and ammunition practically pour out. Each set is bundled with a label displaying a name and an address. I look at each label and try to memorize where to make each drop before zipping the bag back up. I swing the bag over my head and it rests at my side. I head downstairs and get back on the motorbike.

The first drop is actually to The Lost. I'm surprised they count on us for weapons when they're our lead competitor when it comes to drug dealing. I don't know if it's a smart thing to arm your own enemies, but Johnny has promised to keep the peace. If he keeps his word, then I guess it really doesn't matter in the end. I ride over to the camp and pretty much every biker there knows who I am: Trevor Philips's girlfriend, and they don't like that.

They still eye me down like fresh meat as I walk into the camp, but they know I'm good friends with Johnny and Ashley. I already know Johnny isn't here. He's just as busy as Trevor with his own business. I know that Ashley will be here though, and I trust her to give Johnny the delivery. I walk up to her trailer and knock on the door. I hear her clamoring around inside and then the door opens suddenly with her in the threshold. 

"Hey! I haven't seen you in a while," she says excitedly.

I pull out a bundle of weapons wrapped in canvas and hold it out to her, "Delivery for Johnny."

She takes it. "I'll give it to him when he gets back. You wanna come in? I've been dying to see you."

"I've actually been dying to see you too," I sigh as I step inside her trailer. 

She closes the door behind me and sits with me on the dingy couch in the main area. "So what's been going on with you?" 

"Oh, you know. The usual. Holding our lives together while my addict boyfriend does whatever the hell he wants." I say with heavy attitude.

She scoffs, "Boy do I know that all too well. I thought Trevor promised to quit a while ago though. I know he has before, but I thought he was really sticking to it this time."

"I did too. It just shows what a fucking idiot I am when it comes to trusting him. Sometimes it feels like I'm a single mother with an incredibly troubled teenage son." I admit.

"At least yours acts like a teenager. Johnny can sometimes act just like a fucking toddler. We got into an argument the other day because he couldn't find a specific pair of jeans." She rolls her eyes.

"Trevor can be that way too. I shouldn't have to tell a grown man that he needs to wipe better and to remember to shower!"

Ashley grimaces, "Ok, you win."

"I really don't know what goes on in his head sometimes. I want to blame it on the drugs, but I know that's denial. When I first met him, I never imagined that this is what our life together would be like. I don't regret a day of it, but sometimes I think a little too hard about it. I've never been in this situation before and I don't have a precedent to help me deal with it. It all just kind of piles up and the one person I feel like I can talk to about anything is part of the problem, ya know?"

She looks at me with sympathy. "Yeah, I do unfortunately, but we have each other," she says softly and with hope. She leans over and gives me a genuine hug.

"You're right," I hug her back. "I'm really, really thankful for you. You have been there for me through a lot recently."

"I'm really, really thankful for you too, and although we don't have past experience with this shit, we're both in very similar situations. I'll always be here for you whenever you need to talk." She smiles. "From now until the day I die." 

"Thanks, Ash," I smile too.

-

Ron lumbers off towards his trailer as I'm getting off the motorbike and peeling off my jacket again that feels more like a straightjacket. The sun is setting and I really don't feel like going inside just yet. I want to savor the beauty of the sunset before I possibly walk in on Trevor using again. As I look up at the sky and the hot pink and vivid orange stretching across it, I wonder if Michael is looking down on me. If he is, he'd ask me how the hell I ended up here.

"I wish you were here to be the one to yell at him for being an idiot for a change," I sigh. 

I hear the door to the trailer squeal as it opens. I look over and Trevor is looking at me from the doorway. "Who are you talking to?" He asks sweetly.

"Myself," I tell him.

He comes down off the porch and stands by my side with an arm around my shoulders, looking up at the same sunset I was admiring. "For such a piece of shit town, it has some key features here and there that redeems it." He says. "Let's take a walk," he grabs my hand and guides me down the street past the Sandy Shores sign that dead ends next to the Alamo Sea. "How was your day?" He asks as we approach the dead end.

"It was alright. Very different. I don't think we've spent that much time apart in years," I giggle. Trevor smiles at me. He seems _different_. "What about you? How was your day being cooped up in the trailer?"

"Also very different. I'm going to be honest, I had a couple ideas about going out today. I stopped and asked myself how it would make you feel though. I had a lot of time to think with a clear head today, and that was something entirely in itself." 

"Yeah? What'd you think about?" I wonder.

We stop walking in the middle of the sandy field, a few yards away from the dead end of the road. We can hear a car passing on the road every now and again, but we can't see the road. It's minutes away from being completely dark and it's starting to get slightly colder. Trevor takes my hands in his. 

"Between episodes of vomiting violently into the toilet, I realized that I don't want to do that anymore. **Ever**."

I laugh, "I imagine so."

He shrugs, "Of course I mean I don't want to throw up for days on end, but I mean I don't want to have to go through these detoxes just to fall back into it. I know _I_ don't feel good and I realized for the first time that it isn't just me that has to go through all of this. I've been extremely selfish and it's been really bothering me that I left you in the middle of nowhere; I don't think I'm going to get over that one easily. It was kind of the final straw for me."

"Well, I appreciate the thought you put into it-"

He cuts me off, "I know you can't trust me on this until you see results, but I think I've had enough. I'm continuously unhappy and I realized I need to do something to start to change that. There's no reason for me to be unhappy when I have the business going smoothly and _you_. To put it simply, I'm just tired of feeling bad. Now, I fully agree with you taking the reigns on the business right now. I think a little time off will help me stay on track. I just want to thank you for giving me the the push I needed to sort things out. I've been out of my mind for too long and it feels _so_ good to back in it."

I lean against him and kiss him. "I love you, Trevor, and I just want you to be the happy and carefree guy I fell in love with. Instead, you've been depressed and out of control."

"I know," he whispers. I grab the edges of the open flannel, button-up shirt he's wearing over his t-shirt and pull it off of his shoulders. I toss it to the side and he looks at me with confusion. "What are you doing? You know sand is a bitch to get off of clothing." He says seriously. I reach down and unbutton his jeans. "Whoa," he says calmly, but with surprise, "ok, wow."

I kiss him again. "It's been months, Trevor."

"I could've sworn we-"

"Nope," I cut him off. "Must've been a dream because it's been months. Plus, you know we can't when you've been using. Things don't exactly wor-" 

He cuts me off this time. "Yep," he sighs defeatedly, "you didn't have to bring that little tidbit up."

I get him to the ground. "Well, I can already tell it's not a problem anymore," I smirk deviously.


	98. Chapter 98

"Oh my god, there he is," I say anxiously. "How do I look? Do I look uncomfortable? Why didn't I just send Trevor to pick him up and bring him to the house?" 

"Yo," Franklin giggles, "you look fine, but you gotta chill. He's gonna pick up on your serious nervous energy."

"I'm sorry. I'm just worried that he'll be angry that I failed to inform him that he's going to be a grandfather until now. I mean I'm eight months pregnant! That's kinda late to the game, Franklin!"

He laughs again. "I doubt he's gonna hold it against you." 

Once Franklin slows up to the curb at the airport, I slowly open the door trying to prolong the moment. Dad fiddles with the handle of his suitcase as I approach him. Franklin and I stand before him and he gives us a smile as he struggles with the suitcase. He instantly double-takes me, but his expression is more serious. He looks at my stomach and his eyes widen. A giant smile crosses his face. 

"Are you-?!" He begins to ask excitedly and I nod. He completely forgets about the suitcase and comes over to hug me. Tears are already in his eyes. "My and your mother's final wish has come true," he whispers in my ear. 

As we part, I look at him happily. "You're going to have a grandson."

He looks even more excited. "My god, I don't think this day can get any better."

"Hey, Mr. (Your last name)," Franklin interjects as he places my father's suitcase in the trunk of his car.

"Hello, Franklin! It's nice to see you again. I'm sorry I've forgotten my manners," my father says politely.

"It's all good. That's some pretty big news to take in." He gives my dad a nod and gets in the driver's seat. 

We both follow Franklin's lead and get in the car. Franklin starts out for my house. "So, I know it's not the best situation, but you'll be bunking in the nursery for your visit. We moved the sofa/pull-out bed in there. We'll probably spend the first few nights in there with the baby, so it works out for a guest room for the time being until we can clear out the other rooms in the house."

"That's quite alright, sweetie. Now I'm very intrigued by the details about all of this. How far along are you?"

I sigh. "I'm eight months along. It'll be nine in a few days I think. I'm due very soon."

"How have you kept it a secret this long?" He asks.

"Honestly, dad," I pause, "it's been easy with you all the way in North Yankton. Now you know what I was hinting at on the phone. I want you to be a part of your grandson's life."

"This already," he grumbles. "Look, I've already decided that you're right and it makes more sense for me to move to the city. Now knowing that I'm going to be a grandfather, how can I _not_ move?"

I smile. "Well, I'm glad that was an easy decision. Thank you," I turn as best as I can and make eye contact with him.

-

When Franklin pulls into the driveway, Johnny is outside in the driveway waxing the Hexer. He stops and looks up at Franklin's white Buffalo. We all get out of the car and Franklin retrieves my father's suitcase from the trunk and sets it next to him. Trevor comes out of the front door to greet us. Johnny approaches and sticks a hand out and my dad takes it.

"Dad, this is my friend, Johnny. We met when Trevor and I lived in Blaine County. Johnny, this is my father." I introduce the two and my dad seems incredibly fascinated by Johnny. He takes in the scars on Johnny's brow and the tattoo on his neck. I think it's becoming clear to him the kind of guys I choose to have around.

"I think I've heard about you," my dad finally says.

"Well, I _have_ heard a little about you. You raised a really genuine, honest, and trustworthy girl here." Johnny says. I think they're both intrigued by each other.

"Hey, dad," Trevor interrupts my father's moment with Johnny by going in for a hug. 

My dad warmly hugs Trevor. "Hello, Trevor. Excited to be a dad?"

"Nervous more than anything, but yes," he says honestly.

"Yeah, I remember that all too well. I know you both will be great parents." He smiles at Trevor and I.

"Thank you for that," Trevor says to him. "And thank you, Franklin, for lending your time to drive to the airport. I promise we'll figure out the car situation."

"It's no problem, man. I gotta get back to work now though." He says. We all give a goodbye to Franklin and he drives off. 

"What's wrong with the truck?" Dad asks as we all move inside, except for Johnny who continues to wax his motorcycle.

"Oh! Nothing, it's just that the truck only has two seats and we're slowly realizing we probably need more. It's really not a situation at all. Trevor has just been so busy that we haven't really had time to go car shopping." I inform my father.

"Yeah, that would be a good investment with a baby on the way." Says my father.

"That's why we're working on it. I do have to admit it pains me a little bit. We've only needed the truck for years, but now we're probably going to have to do more things apart."

"Don't think about it like that," dad says. "When you're raising a child, everyone's schedules are going to stop adding up. That's not a bad thing. Both of you will get one-on-one time with your son."

"This whole situation has been a huge thought adjustment for both of us," Trevor tells him.

"It's going to be for the next eighteen, or so, years," dad laughs. "What about you, (your name)? You've been pretty quiet."

Trevor looks at me and can tell what I'm thinking. He shakes his head, but I ignore it. "Dad, I think the three of us need to have a discussion." 

Trevor sighs. "Come on. Let's go sit down in the living room."

The three of us walk to the living room and sit together on the couch. Dad looks at Trevor and I with concern. "Is everything alright?" He asks.

"Yes," I say abruptly. "Everything is fine, but Trevor and I had a discussion of our own about you moving to the city. We agreed that if you're going to move here and be a bigger part of our lives, then we need to be more forthcoming about our lives."

"Ok," he says in confusion.

"We haven't been honest with you about anything, really," Trevor says quietly. An awkward silence comes over us.

"Dad, Trevor and I are-" I think about proper phrasing, but realize it's not going to soften the blow. "Trevor and I aren't good people. We're criminals. We've gone far beyond breaking the law and we've cheated every system."

Dad takes a deep breath in and kind of looks off into space. "I know."

"Wait a minute," I say. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I didn't know for sure, but I had an idea. Think about it," he starts, "you ran off with your boyfriend who was unstable enough to be denied his wings when you both were very young and you took virtually nothing. You disappeared for years without a word and turned up incredibly successful years later with vague details about how you reached that success. I'm still not really sure what Trevor's business is all about. Also, I can tell you two went through something extremely traumatic, but it wasn't a car accident."

Trevor and I look at each other and he takes my hand. "I'm an illegal arms dealer," Trevor admits shamelessly to my father. "When I first met (your name), I had committed a few various crimes here and there. Some were to make ends meet, some were to get money to get away from my mother, and some were just a result of my anger. I stole a cargo plane from the military and used it to help others transport illegal goods across the Canadian border."

"And I helped him," I interject. "I didn't have to, but I _wanted_ to. I _liked_ it. Later when we started sticking up places, I realized I was good at it. Oh, and Michael, he's our old running buddy. We all robbed banks and pulled heists together."

The room goes quiet. My dad looks at both of us expressionlessly. "My opinion of both of you has not changed. My opinion of all your friends hasn't changed. Am I proud of your careers? No, I can't be. I know I raised you better and I know now the articles I read a few years ago were probably about you. However, I am proud that you two have stuck by one another all these years through that. I know both of you very well and I know you're more than the choices you made just to see another day. You two _are_ good people and I don't want to hear any different from now on."

"But dad, we've hurt _a lot_ of people. Aren't you at all worried about how the baby is going to grow up?" 

"Even in a normal household, whatever that is, doesn't guarantee a child will grow up happy. Not all of it is nurture, some of it is just the genetic predisposition of nature. You both are very caring people. I trust that you'll be great parents." He smiles.

"I really didn't know how this conversation was going to go, but I really didn't expect this reaction," I laugh.

"I've told you before, (your name), I'm a lot more open-minded than you give me credit for. I loved your mother, but don't assume I'm guilty by association because of her strict and conservative nature." He says with a sly smirk on his face. "I just want you to know that you never have to feel like you have to hide who you were and who you are from me. There are plenty of things I hid from your mother. For instance, she thought I was going to board meetings sometimes but I was actually going to bars for a drink with some friends from college."

"Badass," Trevor laughs.

"Mom is rolling in her grave right now," I groan.


	99. Delivery

"I'm so happy that you made a decision on a house. We'll keep in touch with the realtor and update you." I hug my father goodbye.

"Please do. Big things are on the horizon and I'm eager to be here for them," he smiles and takes the handle of suitcase. "I'll be back soon."

Franklin, Trevor, and I watch as my father walks into the airport. It never feels like enough time. Although, we won't have to worry about that ever again soon. Everyone's wishes are coinciding for once. The three of us pile back in Franklin's car and he drives us back home for the second time this week. It is a big favor of him to drive us around, but I think he actually enjoys it. I would too if it meant I got a break from arms drops and pick-ups.

A dull ache begins in my lower abdomen and I squirm uncomfortably in my seat. That's all the third trimester of a pregnancy is: uncomfortable. Franklin quickly glances over at me and then refocuses on the road. I just can't seem to get comfortable. Again, I slightly switch my position, but to no avail. Franklin glances at me again and Trevor is completely oblivious to my misery from the backseat. 

"You ok over there?" Franklin asks.

"Yeah," I grimace unconvincingly, "it's just hard to find a good position with a sack of bricks attached to your body."

He laughs quietly to himself and glances at Trevor in the rear-view mirror. He hasn't really said much since we left the house. _Jesus!_. I move once again, but the dull ache gets stronger. Suddenly, I feel a gush of liquid between my legs. I did not just piss myself! Wait. Oh, no... I quickly grasp the door handle beside me as if it's going to make me any less terrified out of my mind right now.

"Uh, guys," I speak up all too casually.

"Yeah?" They both say in near unison.

"I think I'm going into labor."

Trevor appears between the driver's and passenger's seat with wide, anxious eyes. He looks me over. "Are you sure? What's going on? What do we do?"

"We're going to the hospital, man," Franklin says giving Trevor a confused look.

Trevor takes my hand and I squeeze as a bad contraction comes on. "Fucking hell, you're going to break my hand!" He exclaims.

"This baby is probably the size of a watermelon and the exit door is much, much smaller than the size of a watermelon," I say through gritted teeth as another wave of contractions happens.

"Ok, ok," Trevor says defensively.

"Dad sure left at an impeccable time. Also, we'll take care of the cleaning this seat is going to need after this," I say ominously to Franklin. He looks at me and grimaces as he pushes down on the accelerator. 

The contractions become more and more painful and I can't help but tear up at the realization that it's only going to get worse. This is only the beginning of a long journey that I'm unprepared for. My life of crime never could have prepared me for this. It's nothing like being shot. This is a deep, powerful ache from within. I almost start to have a panic attack at the thought of the pain getting exponentially worse when I actually have to give birth, but Trevor senses my tension over his own.

"In a matter of a few hours, we're going to be parents," he says to me. "You'll be able to sit, walk, and lay down normally. You can go back to wearing regular clothes." He thinks for more positives to get me to calm down. "We can have sex again!" He says excitedly.

"I'm gonna stop you right there, homie," Franklin interrupts. "I don't wanna here none of that."

I laugh before it starts hurting again. "Unfortunately, Trev, they're going to say to hold off for another two weeks."

"After a few months, I can make it another two weeks. I'm just letting you know that after those two weeks-," he trails off, but makes a grunting sound. Franklin gives him another strange look in the rear-view mirror.

-

"Push!" Nearly everyone in the rooms yells.

Trevor's arm tenses every time I squeeze his hand. "Everyone shut the fuck up!" I scream. "I'm trying to focus on getting this thing out of me, and I can't do that when everyone is yelling at me!"

"They're just doing their job, crazy cakes," Trevor whispers sweetly to me.

"I need quiet so I can think!"

"Ok, you've got your quiet. Just focus. I'm right here with you." Trevor tells me.

I squeeze his hand and give it another hard push, causing me to yell out in pain. I suddenly have the urge to kick Trevor in the balls for two reasons. The first reason is for knocking me up and getting me in this situation. The second reason is making sure this _never_ happens again. I close my eyes and try to find the headspace to get through this. How did I deal with everything painful in the past? I channelled it into something that makes me happier. 

I begin to think of the night I met Trevor. Those deep, dark brown eyes instantly saw through me. I didn't even know we'd be together at the time, not to mention that those same eyes would be watching me right now as I try to give birth to our child. _Push._ The first time Trevor kissed me was under that one tree. Sparks flew, and they still do. _Push._ I remember how Trevor surprised me at graduation after he was discharged. My life really began when he came back. _Push._ The first time Trevor and I slept together, I learned just how attractive in an odd way the combination of his nervousness about it and unwavering confidence is. _Push._ Trevor and I slow dancing to Black Flag in North Yankton and then again at our wedding. _Push._ Being his wife and waking up next to him every day. 

The sound of a screaming, crying infant echoes through the room. My eyes flit open and I fall back against the bed, completely void of strength and energy. Trevor looks at me, still holding my hand, with tears in his eyes. "You did it," he says quietly and kisses me on the forehead. He looks over at the doctor cleaning our newborn son. "He's beautiful. Perfect, like his mother," Trevor says all choked up.

My vision is blurry and I begin to feel light-headed even though I'm laying against the bed. Nurses and the doctor are talking to me, but I can't hear what they're saying. They start moving around the room frantically like something's wrong. Even Trevor seems panicked. I'm completely oblivious to it. All I hear is a ringing that's getting louder and louder and the lights are blinding against the white hospital room. 

Across the way, I notice a boy standing in the corner. He can't be older than twenty. He's staring straight at me and he looks happy. He's smiling, and then he looks at the baby. No one else seems to be aware of his presence. I squint to get a better look at him. "Ryan?" I whisper weakly to him. Everything goes black.


	100. Afterbirth

_Ashley sits beside me on a dirty sofa. There's nothing but empty, white space around us. I look around, obviously confused. She looks right at home though. She hugs me and gives me a look of contentment. I miss her so much, more than I've ever really admitted. I think I miss her more than Johnny. Even now, she exudes the ultimate sense of realness that no one else quite had like her. I wanted to stay here._

_"Trevor's right," she smiles, "the baby is beautiful. I wish I could hold him."_

_"Am I dead?" I ask her anxiously as I try to make sense of my surroundings._

_She laughs, "No, silly! You've got a baby to take care of and Trevor can't do it by himself. Although, you are pretty close to dead. No one knows if you'll make it or not. Trevor has already called everyone: your dad, Michael, Johnny." His name escapes her mouth and she looks as though it surprises her. "Tell him that I love him, and that I'm **always** with him. I'm always with all of you."_

_"Yeah, I had a feeling."_

_"Sorry about that," she says guiltily, "but I had to remind you somehow! You know I've always been the center of attention in any room," she jokes. "Just make sure you tell Johnny what I said. Now, I can't keep you here. Trevor and the baby need you. He's losing his mind right now," she rolls her eyes. "I love you, (your name). Good luck, mama bear!"_

I know I'm awake now, but I keep my eyes shut for a moment. I need to process what I just saw. Was it a dream? It had to be. I must've dreamt I saw Ryan too. How else do I explain any of that?! I slowly open my eyes. Trevor is sitting in a chair in the corner. He's hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head resting in his hands. I watch for a moment when I think I see him trembling. He's muttering something too.

Slowly, and with trouble, I sit up in the hospital bed. How many more times are we going to do this song-and-dance? "Trevor," I say tiredly as I rub my eye. He quickly picks his head up and looks at me. He practically darts across the room to me and gathers me up in his arms. He buries his face in my neck. His crying is muffled by my tousled hair. After everything my body just went through, I surprisingly don't hurt. I'm grateful for that. I'm still trying to grasp what I just saw, but I'm just happy to be awake and pain free. "What's wrong?" I finally ask.

Trevor look at me with red, bloodshot eyes. He hasn't been sleeping at all. He quickly wipes his eyes and then his nose with the back of his hand. "After you gave birth, you started to hemorrhage."

"Again?" I say with annoyance in my voice.

He laughs at my casual response. "Yeah, but this was worse. You lost a lot of blood and they told me this is the number one cause of death for women after giving birth. I nearly stopped breathing," he informs me.

A nurse walks in with a plastic crib on wheels. "Oh, good! Mama's awake! I'll let the doctor know. I'll be honest, we weren't quite sure how you were going to do. Anyway, are you ready to say hello to Ryan?" She says the last bit in a cutesy voice as she picks up the baby out of the crib.

I look at Trevor, who is smiling wildly at the baby in a blue onesie. I smile, "You named him Ryan?"

Trevor looks at me. "I guess we both did. You said his name right before you passed out and I liked it." A look of discomfort crosses his face as he remembers his brother. " _He_ would've liked it."

The nurse walks over to me and hands me the baby. I cradle him in my arms and am careful to support his head. The minute my hands touched him, I felt it inside me that he's mine. My cheeks already hurt from smiling so much. Looking at your own child sparks a whole new kind of love that I never even knew existed. He yawns in my arms and opens his eyes sleepily. I can feel my heart melting. I look up at Trevor who's grinning at me and the baby.

"He definitely has our eyes and hair," I laugh. "He does kind of look like you though. I always thought people were full of shit when they said that about babies, but I actually do see you in him."

"How so?" Trevor asks as he moves to my side and leans over to look at the baby in my arms.

"He has your nose and lips." I look at Trevor who is looking intensely at the baby, surveying his features. "Have you held him?" 

Trevor shakes his head. "They rushed me out of the room pretty quickly after you started bleeding out. I only got a little glimpse of him."

I slowly hold out the baby for Trevor to take. He looks at it and then at me with fear. "You won't hurt him," I reassure him. Trevor swallows hard and gently takes Ryan from me. "Watch his head," I remind him. He adjusts his arm to hold up his head. Instantly, I watch Trevor assume his fatherly instincts. He gently rocks Ryan. "Look at my boys," I say lovingly. A tear falls down Trevor's cheek and I wipe it away. 

"Are you crying, T?" We look over and see Michael in the doorway. I can tell Amanda practically wants to push past him.

Trevor stands with the baby. "No!" He says defensively. "I'll shove my boot up your ass and then we'll see who's crying!" 

"Trevor," I laugh. He relaxes again and Amanda finally gets by Michael in the doorway. She makes a beeline for Trevor and looks at the baby in his arms. She moves the blanket the nurse swaddles him in away from his face and I see her face soften. "Do you want to hold him?" I ask her.

"It's a 'him'! Can I?!" She asks humbly.

"If Trevor lets go," I joke. He carefully hands Amanda the baby and comes back over to sit by my side. She rocks him just as I watched her do with Tracey and Jimmy when they were babies. Michael sets down flowers on a table in the room and stands by his wife, looking at the baby.

"Congratulation on a having a boy, T. That's a man's dream. And good luck, (your name), raising a boy with Trevor's genes." Michael says.

"Tell me about it," I roll my eyes. "He was enough trouble before he even entered the world."

"He's absolutely precious," Amanda says. "Have you named him yet?"

Trevor puts a hand on my shoulder. "We named him Ryan," he pauses, "after a family member."

"Ryan Philips, that's a good name," Michael nods his head.

"Forgive me for asking, but what happened during delivery? We weren't exactly sure what we were going to walk into. Trevor called Michael, but we couldn't understand everything he was saying he was so distraught over something." Amanda asks.

"Apparently I hemorrhaged. It's not the first time either. I hemorrhaged for the first time at about six months. I was bedridden, and that's why we really haven't been able to see you guys. I'm not sure exactly what happened this time, but before it was because the placenta detached. I may have been able to get pregnant after all, but I don't think my body was ready to carry a baby."

"I'm glad you're ok, but don't say that! I already want you to try again. You need a girl!" Amanda whines.

"I don't even know if I'll be able to get pregnant again. This was kind of a big surprise. It was a very complicated pregnancy and I don't know if I want to go through that again. He's healthy and seems to be happy. That's all I can ask for." I announce.

"I hate to say it, but I'm not against not trying for another one. I was a nervous fucking wreck for a majority of the pregnancy," Trevor says.

"I know, you poor thing. If I could've helped any of it, you know a lot of the things that happened wouldn't have happened. You've been my rock through everything though. I don't know what I'd do without you, Trev." I say to him.

Jimmy and Tracey come running into the room, both out of breath. "Is everything ok? I got your text, dad." Tracey pants.

"Yeah, everything's fine. You've got a new, uh," Michael thinks about what to call the baby in relation to his own kids, "cousin." 

"I pretty much just shat myself," Jimmy tells everyone. "I was in the middle of playing Righteous Slaughter online and Tracey barges in when she was supposed to be in class. She's all like 'Get in the car, you slob, Aunt (your name) is having the baby and Uncle T is like freaking the hell out about something. We gotta get to the hospital'." He settles onto the couch underneath the window in the room. 

"I'm glad you two could make it," I say warmly to the De Santa kids. "I have to say the age gap between all of our kids is something else."

"I thought about that, but remember we had them kind of young." Amanda adds.

"We'll love him just the same," Tracey says as she looks at the baby in her mother's arms. 

The doctor appears in the doorway and knocks on the door. "Good morning, Mr. and Mrs.Philips. I'm glad to see you're doing well. I just wanted to have a quick word with you about the your situation and a few care tips." He looks at me and then everyone else in the room like that is their cue to leave.

"They can stay if they want. They're pretty much family." I tell the doctor.

"Alright, well, by now I'm sure you're aware there was a complication during your delivery. You had a postpartum hemorrhage. This, in your case, means that your uterus didn't contract on it's own to go back to its normal size. You lost a lot of blood, causing your blood pressure to drop rapidly, and ultimately resulting in fainting. We had to manually constrict the size of your uterus and you've been given a transfusion and an IV. We are going to put you on a medication just to make sure your body can retain the natural changes it should have made and to replenish the nutrients you lost. You'll be staying here for a few days because of the complicated vaginal delivery. Now, any questions?"

"Yeah, I got one," Trevor says with a concerned look on his face.

"Yes?" The doctor answers.

"How long before, you know," Trevor makes a circle with his left hand and sticks a finger of his right hand through the circle.

The doctor looks annoyed, like he's answered this a million times. "About a month to a month and a half," he spouts off.

"Shit," Trevor mumbles under his breath. Everyone else in the room looks slightly uncomfortable. 

"Any other questions?" The doctor asks. Trevor raises his hand. "Preferably not from Mr.Philips."

"I think we're all good. If we need anything, we'll let the nurse know. Thank you for everything," I say to the doctor.

"It's why I come to work everyday," he says, "and congratulations, by the way."

When the doctor leaves the room, I look at Trevor. "Really?"

"I was just curious," he shrugs.

"You could have just looked it up on EyeFind."

"He's a doctor and he asked if we had questions!"

"But no one else here wants to hear that," I explain to him.

"Hey, you know me, babe. I'm not one to shy away from the truth." 

-

Trevor had Johnny drive the truck to the hospital. They were going to arrange it in a way that no one had to double back or leave a vehicle anywhere, but I demanded that Johnny just come get us. I'm beyond ready to leave the hospital. I've been stuck in a white box for about a week. I feel perfectly healthy now and Ryan needs to be in his own nursery. The nurses told me that he doesn't get to sleep very much because of the other babies crying in the hospital nursery. 

It already sums him up perfectly. He is a quiet, happy baby. He cried when he was born and that was about it. He makes discontented noises when he's hungry, but that's it. He never fusses when I feed him and he usually goes right to sleep. He's everything I could've asked for and more, which worries me. What is he going to be like when he gets older? I quickly change into my clothes Michael and Amanda got from the house and dropped off for me during one of their visits.

I feel extremely tired, so I know I must look the part. So, I take Trevor's sunglasses out of his hands and put them on. Then, I put Ryan in the carrier that Michael and Amanda also dropped off. I'm out the door before Trevor, who is struggling to keep up with me. I told him that I was ready to go home on day two. I wait impatiently at the curb for Johnny in Trevor's red Bodhi. Not soon enough, I spot him and he spots me. He hops out of the driver's seat and into the back.

Trevor gets in the driver's seat, as usual. I open the passenger door and steady the carrier in the space between the driver's and passenger's seat like the space was made for a baby carrier. Then, I climb in the truck and for once I don't feel strangled by the seat belt. I can definitely get used to fitting in smaller places and my old clothes again. As Trevor starts driving towards the house, Johnny leans over the back partition to look at Ryan. The baby smiles widely at Johnny, which makes Johnny smile.

"He's a good mix of you both," Johnny says. "Maybe a little more of Trevor's looks."

"That's what everyone and I said. Trevor doesn't see it," I reply.

"How can you not? Look at his nose," he says matter-of-factly.

"Thank you!" I say excitedly, looking at Trevor. He's too focused on the road and wanting to sleep in our bed after sleeping in a hospital bed for a week to be concerned with me giving him attitude. "Thanks for driving the truck over, Johnny K. You're a life saver."

"Oh yeah," he says reassuringly, "it was no problem at all. I'm just sorry I never stopped by."

"It's ok. Franklin called and said business was getting a little heavy right now. Plus, you'll have a lot of time to get acquainted with the baby now that we're home." I tell him.

"Yeah, but I heard it didn't go very smoothly and there was a chance we might've lost ya," Johnny says timidly.

"Yeah, almost, but not quite. I told death to fuck off for the millionth time." I laugh. I pat Trevor's leg. "I feel better than I have been for a while."

"I can tell. When you were pregnant it just seemed like every move was a struggle." Johnny agrees.

"That's because it was. Sitting for too long was uncomfortable, laying down a certain way was uncomfortable, and walking around was very uncomfortable. I love this little guy, but I'm so glad he's out of my body." 

Johnny pats me on the back. "Glad to have you back to your old self."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of this story! Thank you for all the support you guys gave to it. It really does mean everything to me. Although this part of the story has come to an end, it's not over. I do plan on writing a kind of sequel to this story that picks up shortly after where it left off. One hundred chapters has just become a lot to manage and much like Trevor and our main character are starting a new chapter in their lives, I thought it's only fitting to give them a fresh start. Your love and support of this story has made me completely addicted to writing it, so I couldn't just leave it there! I'm going to keep the same title, but add "Part Two" to it, I think. It should be up soon and my goal is to start writing longer chapters, so keep an eye out for it!


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